The Unabridged Tale of The Longbottoms
by Tress Blues
Summary: A continuation of Stitch Me Up: From the Sorting to their Children, these are the collected outtakes from the lives of a shy Hufflepuff and the unexpected hero, Hannah and Neville. Brought by popular demand.
1. The Sorting

**A/N: So I've revamped STITCH ME UP because I got to the end and said to myself: Godric I wish there were more.**

**So here is the 'more'.**

**Enjoy.**

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The Sorting

Hannah was sitting quietly among a pack of giggling girls, most of whom already knew each other and were busily making more friends. It made a part of her wish she could follow their lead but instead she hid behind her book, too shy to really engage.

One of the girls, Leanne, also remained quiet as her friend Emily chattered away with the others but Hannah wouldn't dare contemplate striking up conversation with her. Much like herself, Leanne was reading a magazine to keep eyes off her and Hannah respected the silent but firm rebuttal of conversation too much to disrupt her.

It was nearly three quarters of an hour into the trip when the door to the cabin burst open and a boy stumbled inside, almost falling over his own feet as he studied the carpeted floor of the cabin carefully. "Excuse me…sorry…have you seen a toad anywhere?" he mumbled, not making eye contact.

Hannah felt sorry for him as Emily sneered. "A toad? Who brings a toad to school?"

"Freak," someone coughed, conspicuously.

She'd never wanted to stand up for someone as much as she had at that moment but Leanne beat her to it. "Leave him alone," she chastised her friend. "It's on the list."

"His name's Trevor." The boy explained, glancing under their seats. Hannah took a quick peak under her own just to be certain.

"I don't see him," Hannah whispered, timidly. Her cheeks were growing pinker as she kept sneaking glances at the boy. Having grown up in the secluded Abott Estate, the only boys she'd really been around were her awful cousins who took turns ripping out her hair when they visited.

But this boy looked nice. And Hannah found herself thinking that if she looked past his floppy fringe, he had rather pretty brown eyes. _Are you allowed to call boys pretty? _She wondered but before she could answer herself, the boy's shoulders had slumped and he mumbled an apology before he closed the cabin door and left.

-:-

"_I'm_ going to be in Ravenclaw," Emily declared, proudly as the girls walked with the group toward the front doors.

"That's very…ambitious of you Emily," Hannah tried to compliment but she found the words to be rather false, directed toward the girl who had argued with the Sweets Cart Lady over the proper price of Chocolate Frogs only to be proven rather publicly wrong.

Leanne beside her giggled slightly and the pair shared a small smile that was silenced as they reached the tall, dark haired witch who stood in front of the door in emerald green robes and a tight expression.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she announced. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts."

"I already have a family," Emily hissed, pedantically.

Hannah dearly wished she could tell her to shut up but she merely shared another glance with Leanne. Though her family was rather small to begin with, she loved them and gaining a new one seemed like a fine idea for her.

"You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common-room." McGonagall, as Hagrid had introduced her, continued. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you art at Hogwarts…"

She continued on but Hannah's thoughts were once again focused on what she'd been fretting about for months. Both her parents, Alan and Debra Abbott had been Hufflepuffs. There was talk that they were distantly related to Ophelia Hufflepuff, Helga's niece, way back when and it was a lasting tradition in their family, one which taken very seriously.

_What if I'm put somewhere else? I wouldn't fit with Gryffindor; you have to be so brave to be there! I'm clever but I don't think I could feel at home with Ravenclaw and Slytherins would eat me alive. I just want a family. Just like I have at home…_

Hannah was only vaguely aware that Professor McGonagall had left when the whispering broke out. She looked ahead for an instant and did a double take when she thought she spotted a lightning bolt scar on the boy in front of her.

"I forgot Harry Potter was going to be with us this year," Leanne murmured beside her, having noticed as well. "How cool is that?"

Hannah nodded but thought back to what her Mum had told her about the Potter boy. _"He's just another new student Hannah," _Debra insisted, not unkindly. "_Just treat him like you would normally. That poor boy, he's probably sick to death of people staring. Hogwarts should be a sanctuary away from that."_

She was just wondering which house _he _would be put in (having defeated the Dark Lord, she imagined Gryffindor) when something cold and wet dragged across her toes. She gave a little squeal and shook whatever it was off her foot before crouching to investigate.

It was a toad. A fat little black and brown creature that looked up at her with what she swore was a sort of lost gaze. It clicked in her mind as she scooped him up. "Trevor?" she asked, curiously. It didn't respond of course but she knew that toads were uncommon pets to have.

"Where's that boy who was looking for his familiar?" she asked Leanne who shrugged and gestured to her left.

"I think he's looking over there." She offered. "But hurry up, McGonagall will be back soon."

Hannah pushed through the crowd, accidentally bumping into a pale haired boy she knew as a Malfoy. "Watch where you're going, Abbott!" he snapped, loudly. Of course he knew her since her father worked in the Ministry with his and the Malfoys valued blood status over all else. Though diluted somewhat, Abbotts were pure.

Hannah recoiled and hurried away to where the boy from the train was searching under a tapestry with a look of misery on his face.

"Erm, excuse me?" she called and he scrambled upwards, awkwardly. _He's much taller standing, _she noted absently as she held out the toad.

"Trevor!" he called, happily and snatched him carefully. "Thanks for finding him!"

"No problem." Hannah replied, smiling.

She desperately wanted to ask his name but McGonagall had appeared at the front of the crowd and so Hannah waved a small goodbye. "Good luck," she whispered as she made her way back to Leanne.

McGonagall was ordering the ghosts about when she arrived back in her spot. "Now, form a line." She ordered, firmly. "And follow me."

Hannah somehow wound up behind a redheaded boy that she realised was a Weasley and Harry Potter as they walked into the Great Hall for the first time.

It was magnificent. There were four long tables The ceiling was lit by tens of thousands of candles as they hovered beneath the starry sky. Hannah was about to ask if there was a ceiling at all when she heard a bushy haired girl toward the front whispering "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in _Hogwarts, a History._"

Hannah had grown up with bedtime stories about the marvels of Hogwarts but she'd never imagined how splendid it would be to finally walk through its halls. And there, she saw, quivering with excitement, there was the Sorting Hat, which looked a little worn but unmistakeable as it suddenly burst into song from a rip in the brim. Stories of the singing Hogwarts pointed hat had put Hannah into a dream filled sleep for years but to actually hear it, speaking of all the houses was simply incredible:

"…_You might belong in Gryffindor,  
>Where dwell the brave at heart,<br>Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
>Set Gryffindors apart;<br>You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
>Where they are just and loyal,<br>Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
>And unafraid of toil;<br>Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
>if you've a ready mind,<br>Where those of wit and learning,  
>Will always find their kind;<br>Or perhaps in Slytherin  
>You'll make your real friends,<br>Those cunning folks use any means  
>To achieve their ends…"<em>

When the song had finished, the whole Hall burst into applause that sounded deafening to her. As Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long scroll, Hannah took a deep breath and let it out shakily. Daddy had warned her that Abbotts were always called first but when her name finally came, she found herself totally unprepared.

"Abott, Hannah!"

Hannah staggered out of the formation and made her way down the aisle shakily. _Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip._ She told herself, panicked.

Finally, she took her seat on the stool and the musky hat fell over her eyes, covering the whole Hall from view.

_Ah, right then…let's get started…_ The hat's voice made her want to shriek as it echoed in her head but Mum had told her that it was all fine: the Hat simply needed to poke around to find where to put you.

_Well you already know where you're going don't you?_ It said, its tone somewhat amused._ Such a kind soul, where else but "_HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the Hat.

The whole suddenly appeared again and Hannah went to the yellow and black Hufflepuff table, who smiled and hi-fived her as she sat down near the end. The Fat Friar ghost waved to her and she smiled back timidly.

"Good to see we got the first new student for once!" said an older student wearing a badge. The table nodded and laughed in agreement.

'Bones, Susan' came to sit with her next and the dark haired girl looked ecstatic to see someone else to sit with. "Hi, I'm Susan," She introduced, smiling.

"Hannah." She replied as the Sorting continued.

The list went on and on and in the end, 'Jones, Thomas', 'MacMillan, Ernie', 'Finch-Fletchley, Justin' and 'Smith, Zacharias' along with 14 other boys became the new Hufflepuff First Year boys.

Hannah, Susan, Leanne, Marilyn Harris and another twelve girls became the new Hufflepuff girls and Hannah was eagerly watching the line for more new friends.

When the boy from the train was called, Hannah automatically engraved the name into her head. Neville Longbottom.

She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped he'd be in Hufflepuff with her but he went to Gryffindor along with the bushy haired girl, 'Granger, Hermione', and she had to hold in a small giggle as he ran off with the hat still on his head.

After 'Perks, Sally-Anne' was called to Hufflepuff, the next name made the entire hall quieten.

"Potter, Harry!"

Hufflepuff descended into whispers but at least they were quieter than Slytherin and Gryffindor who were blatantly chattering away amongst themselves. Hannah swore she saw money changing hands at the red-robed table and the hat stayed on Harry's head for almost four minutes when it finally screamed "GRYFFINDOR!"

The table cheered uproariously and Slytherin looked extremely put out while two redheaded boys stood and begin calling "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Hannah's eyes studied the tables eagerly as she took in her new cohort and she closely examined the Gryffindor table as they were said to be the most amicable table with Hufflepuff according to her older cousins who were both in Hufflepuff a few years ago.

Her eyes kept honing in on the floppy haired Neville, who looked pleased with his new house as she did hers. She berated herself silently, looking away. _It's just a silly crush,_ she told herself. _It'll go away with time._


	2. The Yule Ball

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The Yule Ball

"Come on Hannah," Susan teased, beaming. "You can't just leave us hanging like this. It's cruel!"

"I did no such thing," Hannah flushed, tugging her hair nervously. "You're the one that's making silly assumptions."

"You know what they say about assuming things…" Leanne giggled as the three girls made their way out of the last class of the day. "You make an arse out of-"

"Oh be still my beating heart!" Ernie Macmillan suddenly cried out, grabbing his chest. "Did my love just say-?"

"Hush Ernie," Leanne cut him off warningly, before pecking him on the cheek. "That potion didn't hurt did it?"

"No," Ernie said, brushing off his girlfriend's concern. "And it was just a little explosion this time. My first in three months."

"I'm so proud of you babe," Leanne told him, rolling her eyes. Hannah giggled. Leanne and Ernie were the most unlikely couple of Hogwarts and somehow they were also the most fluid. Leanna was calm, reserved and relaxed where Ernie was loud and opinionated and, if Hannah was being honest, somewhat obnoxious at times. But they fit so well, there wasn't any doubt in her mind the two would end up leaving Hogwarts in three years, as strong as ever.

At the sound her laugh however, Leanne rounded on her. "Don't think you're getting out of this Abbott." She said, waggling a finger at her blonde friend.

_Of course, _Hannah thought sourly, _Leanne was also like hippogriff after ferrets when she thinks something's going on. _

On the outside, Hannah maintained her calm façade. "I'm not trying to get out of anything Leanne," she told her friend, smoothly. "I'm not asking anyone to the Ball."

"For Helga's sakes Lee," Ernie complained. "You're still going on about this?"

The Yule Ball was something that had flooded the school like a hoard Cornish Pixies and to be frank, Hannah was rather fed up with it. For Helga's sakes, she was nervous enough, she wanted to scream. Why did her friends seek to add to her pressure?

"Yes," Hannah replied quickly, hoping it would sway the conversation away from her poor nerves. "Yes she is. And I'm sick of it. Ernie, control your girlfriend."

"On it, boss." Ernie saluted her playfully while Leanne shot him a look that could melt ice.

"Try it bucko and we'll see how far you get with it." She threatened and Ernie took a wise step back. Perhaps not the best at spells or hexes, Leanne was still bloody scary when provoked.

"You know it won't keep them off it forever." Susan reminded her quietly and Ernie tried to talk his way out of the situation.

Hannah sighed. "Susan, please stop asking. I'm not going with anyone. I don't know if I'll go at all."

"Toadsnot." Susan waved her hand dismissively. "You just bought that lovely dress from Hogsmeade, you will have a reason to wear it."

Hannah thought to the gown her mother had come into Hogsmeade to shop for with her a few weekends ago. It really was gorgeous: soft, sienna dyed silk that was layered in the skirt and made the most of her less than bountiful chest and her tiny waist. Mum had been so proud to see her in it.

"I know," Hannah admitted, secretly wondering what she had when she'd bought the gown: would _he _like it?

Susan's face softened as she witnessed the indecisive expression cross her friend's face. "Hannah?"

"Yeah?"

"Stop thinking about it." She encouraged. She loved her friend dearly but Hannah played it safe too often. Hufflepuff she may be but life was made of risks and Hannah had so far steered clear of most of them. Susan just wished she'd engage a little more. "Just do it."

It was the kind of advice only a Hufflepuff would give: heartfelt, free of overthinking and planning and enough of a push to make the recipient take the leap they saw before them.

Hannah smiled, somewhat nervously. "I think…I think I will."

And with that, she took off towards Charms, already planning on what to say when she arrived early. _Alright, _Hannah thought, as she watched the spare seat by the window. _All I need to do is sit down. Not so hard._

What Hannah's subconscious pointedly ignored was the fact that the seat in front of her target was taken by the one person Hannah wished with her whole heart she could speak to and, of course, the person who made her tongue the most confused.

_Deep breaths, Hannah. Don't freak out. Just sit down. It's a classroom not a chapel. A seat, not a date. It's alright. No expectations here._

_You've only been in love with him for most of your life._

Hannah slid into the seat, thanking Helga for her luck in not overstepping and falling over. Once she was settled, she nearly buzzed with excitement. _I'm right behind him. I don't think I've ever been this close to him before. He has a mole on the nape of his neck._

Hannah stopped herself before she became jealous of that mole.

_Alright, _she coached herself. _Go time Hannah. Go for it. _

"Hello there, Neville." Hannah said, quietly and smiled (not too brightly as she so dearly wanted to because _Oh Sweet Helga, _he was looking at her!) when he turned around to see who was calling him.

"Oh, I s'pose you're here for the notes your friend needed?" he asked immediately.

Just like that Hannah's light blinked out. No hello. No smile. No acknowledgement of her.

He'd barely glanced at her tie to check the house before he jumped right in.

She wanted to tell him no. "Yeah," she sighed, disappointed.

"So are you excited about the Ball?" he asked conversationally as he flicked through the notes from Herbology that Leanne had asked of him.

Hannah shrugged noncommittally, though a small hope began to burn in her chest. Could he perhaps mean to ask her…? "Sure."

"I think it'll be grand. I'm going with a few mates, you know? It'll be exciting to see the entertainment I think." Neville said, his voice becoming awkward at the end at Hannah's clearly upset face. She couldn't hide the emotions because they were his. Everything tied up in Neville always spilled across her face despite how she tried to hide it.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked, politely concerned.

"Fine. Just a little weary for the whole thing." She told him, honestly. She would have to go and watch him have so much fun with his friends and sit there the whole night wondering what might've happened if she were brave enough to ask him right now.

_Just do it. _Susan had said.

Hannah felt that small hope start to burn up again. Hope that she could be brave.

_Just do it. Just do it. Go on you lily-livered wuss, just do it._

"I get you," Neville chuckled, fishing for the paper notes.

The words were on the tip of her tongue. _Would you like to go with me? _They were ripe and ready and she was about to ask when he said:

"Apparently Gladrags has been a nightmare for dresses and dressrobes. Ginny said she had to duel a Slytherin for hers." He laughed.

"Ginny?" Hannah echoed weakly. _Oh please no._

"Yeah, she's a friend." He admitted, humbly. "We're going together to the Ball. Who're you going with?" he asked, handing her the pages as the rest of the class filed in.

"N-No one." Hannah held back her ridiculous tears. _Stop it. No need for that. Thank goodness you stopped yourself in time. Would've made a fool of yourself. _

"Well Harry and Ron are looking for dates still I think." Neville mentioned as Hannah stood quietly, gently putting the chair back in. "If you were interested, I could ask."

_Yes. You could've. You did. You asked Ginny. Not me. Never me. _"No thanks." _I only wanted you. I don't care about the dresses or the entertainment. I just wanted you._

"Well, see you later then." Neville said as she left with a polite smile and thanks for the pages. She passed them to Leanne as she sat down beside Susan.

It was only later, when she was in her bed, crying into her pillow at what seemed like heartbreak, did she realise that not once had he ever actually said, noted or even wanted, her name.


	3. The Aftermath

**A/N: This is from the first version so you don't have to read it if you read the previous version. That being said, there are extra chapters within this section of the story so be careful as to which ones you skip.**

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The Aftermath

_It was over. And yet it wasn't, _she thought to herself, carefully fixing the jagged wounds of a Ravenclaw Fourth Year who had snuck back into the castle. _Lucky he's still here really. _She added when the boy hissed in pain. "No more sneaking into battle, alright Corner?" she told him, sternly but with a touch of humour in her eyes. The boy smiled sheepishly, though his eyes were still stormy.

"Sure." He mumbled and she decided to cut him some slack. She knew his brother Michael after all who wasn't such a bad guy. Corner Junior would be fine. With a deep breath she continued on, fixing bandages here and scolding patients for picking their newly healed skin there. In front of her, the grimy, blood stained uniform of the Hogwarts medical matron flitted back and forth between critical patients.

When Madame Pomfrey beckoned her with a flick of the fingers, Hannah Abbott fixed her hair back in a sadly grimy tail and ploughed ahead, barely keeping up with the matron. The short woman's steps might not have been particularly long but they were quick on a usual day.

Today was most certainly _not _a usual day.

Hogwarts Castle lay in ruins about their feet- crumbling piles of bricks that used to be walls, the sick stench of blood and sweat and tears, the portraits lying empty in piles of cracked frames beside the walls. All of it was like it had been created just for some sort of Muggle horror film but Hannah had seen the pre-battle Castle and this was a heartbreaking sight for anyone who had seen the wonder of Hogwarts before Voldemort ruined it.

_Ruins everything, _she added, her own chest aching. The Hogwarts foyer had been transformed into a makeshift emergency room and it was here that Hannah fed, soothed, bandaged, spelled and healed the broken and dying. She couldn't find it within herself to take part in the celebrations occurring in the Great Hall- the sounds were enough to convince her that she didn't belong among the joy of a final victory. No, her place was here, among the grieving and the injured.

She hastened her step, keeping one eye on the Madam and another on the floating medical supplies that were charmed to levitate along behind her as she moved. Hannah recalled a time when simple Levitating Charms had been considered so impossible but now she barely had to keep a thought to the spell she kept going while she walked.

"Abbott," Madame Pomfrey said suddenly, pausing alongside an unconscious woman with badly cut eyes. "Go check on Aisle C and start stitches and healing where they're needed. Merlin knows I won't be there for a while."

They were still waiting on support staff from St Mungo's, though they were meant to arrive within the hour. Swallowing down a paralysing fear of accidentally messing up the healing process, Hannah nodded and flicked her wand, sending the supplies zooming over to Aisle C, which was nothing more than a crudely transformed set of cots with bleeding and dying victims all over them.

Hannah had never considered herself to be brave. She'd been sorted into Hufflepuff in her First Year and the House fit her like a glove. She wasn't cut out to be a hero and it was something she'd always known and accepted, until her Sixth Year.

In April, Hannah received a Ministry owl consoling her on the death of both her mother and unborn brother at the hands of Death Eaters, not to mention the subsequent insanity of her father, who had been admitted to the Psychiatric Ward at St Mungo's. Suddenly her life, which had seemed so solid, had crumbled away and there was nothing to be done.

Hannah had always known she wasn't cut out to be a hero but at that moment, she knew she had to do something.

It was then that she started taking an interest in healing and patching up those that had been hurt; those that had been brave and with her help, could be brave again. She played the passive part of support in the War but she found the role fulfilling nonetheless.

Upon finding herself in Aisle C, Hannah found her whole body trembling as she took in the gory sight of lost limbs and blood stained clothes, though her own robes were red as well. Steadying herself, she took a step forward and found herself lost in her work once more.

"It's okay, she's alright," she soothed one particularly terrified Second Year who was watching her stitch up his sister's nine-inch-long neck wound. "She's very brave." The boy whimpered. "What's her name?" She wasn't anywhere near to being done and he already looked fit to burst into tears. The tie around both the siblings necks marked them as Gryffindors, which didn't surprise her.

"M-Melissa." The boy stuttered.

Hannah smiled, warmly which was hard to do when you're in the process of sewing up bleeding flesh so the bone won't keep poking out. "Melissa? Melissa Weiss?"

"Y-yeah. She's a Fifth Year." The boy straightened and Hannah began to see some of the fear edge away as he began to talk about her. The girl beneath her moaned a little and the boy paused, terrified.

"No, no," Hannah told him, snipping away the final thread. The thread was Spell-Stitch-Me, so it would probably need to be in for another day or two but it would make the process much easier and quicker in the long run. "Keep talking to her. She's probably rather scared right now, I'm sure she'd like to hear you."

The boy glared at her indignantly. "Mel doesn't get scared." He told her, matter-of-factly.

Hannah held in a sigh. "I'm sure she doesn't. Why don't you keeping chatting and I'll be back to check on you later, okay?" The boy nodded his head and Hannah picked up her things and shuffled onto the next patients who were a thirty-five year old Auror who insisted on being treated by St Mungo's officers, a pair of burnt Seventh Years and an eleven year old Muggleborn who had been in the Carrow's dungeon when the battle broke out.

The girl broke Hannah's heart and she made sure that she was comfortable and clean and managed to get a smile out of her before she moved on. "Thank you Hannah!" the girl croaked, cheerfully. Her voice had been screaming for days. Hannah smiled back and moved on, feeling as though the world couldn't be a more awful place than it was now.

For a second, she felt an exhaustion try to settle on her but Hannah was an Abbotts and Abbotts were Hufflepuffs and Hufflepuffs worked hard and didn't give up.

So she shook it off and moved on, distracted by the First Year as she got to her next patient. Who incidentally wasn't alone.

_Oh Merlin, _she thought, her eyes widening and her breath beginning to pick up pace. _He's here, he's _actually _here._

She couldn't do this. Holy Helga, she couldn't. She'd never get through it! She was about to pass out, her face felt pale and-

"Oh get a move on girl, I haven't got all day!" her next patient snapped, harshly.

Because who should be laying on the next cot, struggling to sit up but Augusta Longbottom and her grandson. Neville.

Now it is a little known fact that Hannah had had a crush on Neville Longbottom since he'd burst into her compartment asking if she'd seen a toad named Trevor hopping about the place. She'd nourished this crush for years in silence, not even confiding in her Hufflepuff sisters, refusing to allow even one word to slip into an ear or a diary or a spare bit of parchments. Slytherins might have a reputation for being crafty but it was the badger that knew how to stay hidden best.

So Hannah Abbott had harboured her feelings, watching him from afar, far too shy to actually say anything. Of course, the moment she _did _decide to talk to him, she found out he was taking Ginny Weasley to the Yule Ball and suddenly her stupid ideas of asking him seemed even more ridiculous.

Because how can one even begin to compare the lovely, fiery-haired Weasley girl to plain, blushing, boring Hannah Abbott?

They weren't even on the same _planet_.

But now he was here and Ginny (who, though a nice girl, had been on the receiving end of some very nasty looks over the years) was nowhere in sight and there was Hannah who was about to-

"Well? Are you going to do something or just stand there gaping?" demanded Mrs Longbottom.

To treat his grandmother apparently.

"Gran, please, just lay down for a second." Neville pleaded, gently pushing her back into her bed. The old woman growled at his fussing though from the way her body was trembling, Hannah doubted it was unwarranted.

She tried to regain a little of her professional composure but Merlin was it hard. Hannah was hyper aware that just inches away from her was the long-time star of her daydreams and she was about to treat the most important family relative he had left.

_No pressure_ she thought dryly as she took a spot beside Augusta. "Hello there Mrs Longbottom," she said, warmly. She studiously ignored Neville beside her.

"Have we met?" the old woman snapped.

Hannah flushed pink as she took her vitals and temperature. "No Mrs Longbottom," she replied politely. "But I've met your grandson here. He's in my year at Hogwarts."

"Really?" Augusta seemed far more interested now. "So if you know him, can you please tell him to stop his bloody fussing? It's driving me mad."

If she was pink before, Hannah was practically a Muggle fire engine now. "I'm afraid we don't know each other quite that well Mrs Longbottom," she amended, shyly. "But I'm here now so I'll be doing the fussing I suppose."

"Wonderful," the witch rolled her eyes.

"Oi!" Neville suddenly snapped, angrily, making Hannah jump. "As lovely as it is to be talked about as though I'm not here, _I am _so maybe you could tell me what's wrong with her?"

Hannah shrunk away at the same time Augusta made a well-aimed swipe at the back of his head. "Apologise," she demanded. Hannah got the impression that if she wasn't ordering someone, Mrs Longbottom became very unsatisfied.

"Sorry Hannah." Neville grumbled under his breath but she could hardly stop to focus on the sincerity of his apology. What she was really hung up on was the fact that he knew her name.

"You…know my name?" she whispered, blinking in complete disbelief. They'd never said more than two words to each other and they'd _certainly _never introduced themselves. Hannah would've remembered _that._

Neville looked embarrassed. "'Course I do," he mumbled, scratching his ear. But he didn't elaborate so Hannah forced herself to snap out of it, despite the giddiness running through her.

"Well it seems you've got a bit of a temperature but I don't think it's anything to worry about," Hannah said, still rather flustered. "St Mungo's might want you to go for a bit of a check-up."

Augusta glared at Neville. "Satisfied, silly boy? Now go bring me a glass of water, I'm sure you can find something." She dismissed him and Hannah watched as Neville rolled his eyes and wandered off to find something to make a goblet out of.

Once he was out of earshot, Augusta leaned upwards, her eyes somewhat worried and glazed. "I don't want him to worry but would you look at my arm?" she asked, her teeth gritted. Though she was at least seventy, Augusta had the same round face and hazel brown eyes of her grandson and Hannah couldn't deny her anything so she pulled up the woman's robe sleeve.

She gasped.

The witch's veins were bulgy as came with age but they were wrong; they seemed darker and instantly, Hannah knew the curse and the wizard who uttered it. Evan Rosier and his own designed poison curse. She knew because it was the same one that had killed her mother. It poisoned from the inside out and it was agonisingly painful; a long, slow death. Rosier had a sick sense of humour because he named it the Black Ink Curse.

Hannah took a deep breath and pulled out her wand. "Mrs Longbottom, you're going to have to stay very still," she warned. "Or I'm not going to be able to do this right."

Augusta looked sceptical. "Shouldn't I wait for someone more…experienced?"

Hannah shook her head resolutely. "I can honestly say no one in this castle knows more about this curse than me," she replied, dryly. At first, it had been a way of finding the truth but Hannah's pursuit into research about this particular curse ended up becoming a way of letting her stay close to her mother, sickening as it was to attach herself to Debra Abbott's killer.

Augusta seemed ready to argue but Hannah took one more deep breath and slowly began to cast the very obscure counter-curse she'd memorised since she was fifteen.

Slowly, a shimmer appeared in the air between Hannah's wand and Augusta's arm and eventually, the slow crawling black began to seep away from her veins, moving backwards toward her hand and eventually, once Hannah had it confined to just one fingertip, she squeezed it abruptly and a single drop of black ink rolled out, falling to the floor with a faint hiss.

Augusta let out a huge breath, relieved. "Thank you." She said quietly as Neville began to make his way back. "I had no idea how bad the pain was until was gone."

"What pain Gran?" Neville asked as he appeared carrying a water goblet.

Augusta shrugged delicately. "Of having you badger me. Honestly Neville, when will you learn, I am far more capable than you give me credit."

"I worry Gran-" Neville tried to explain but sensing a fight, Hannah cut in.

"You're bleeding."

The two Longbottom froze and immediately all eyes were on Neville, who's forehead was beginning to swell and bleed. "The gash is hidden in your hair," Hannah explained, too distracted by her work to realise the enormity of what she was about to do. "It's just started to break the skin. Did you fall over or something?"

Neville scowled and too late, Hannah realised how insensitive her comment was. "Well? Answer the healer, Neville!" Augusta ordered, with a slight glint in her eye.

The raven-haired boy grunted in the positive, not meeting either witches' gaze. "Yeah, a bit."

"I can stitch it up if you like," Hannah offered, gesturing to the bed across from Augusta's. Neville immediately shook his head but another blow from Augusta and he reluctantly moved from her side to the empty cot across Aisle C.

Seeing her grandson's reluctant look, Augusta rolled her eyes and sighed gustily. "Oh I'm napping silly boy, get yourself patch up." And with that, Mrs Longbottom's eyes closed and Neville and Hannah were left looking at a deeply snoring woman.

"Can sleep anywhere, that old bat." Neville murmured. Hannah smiled slightly and cleared her throat.

"So, shall we?" she brandished the needle and Spell-Stitch-Me and Neville seemed wary of both. Rather than waiting for an answer, Hannah reached over and brushed his hair back from his forehead. The move shocked her, literally.

It felt as though little jolts of electricity were racing through her veins, leaving live-wire-trails behind them. She'd never felt anything like it and when she glanced at Neville, she realised, with an embarrassed blush that he'd felt it too. She coughed a little and mumbled something stupid like "static electricity", all the while hoping it wasn't her magic acting haywire because of her proximity to the boy she'd been pining over for seven years.

Slowly, Hannah began the process, her body incapable of ignoring the little sparks jumping across her skin as she started to stitch the long gash right above his hairline. The air was tense and quiet; enough to drive Hannah insane enough to try to actually _speak. _Because obviously, she'd lost her mind. "So…how did you get this?" she asked, quietly.

Neville jolted a little, as though he'd forgotten she was even there which made her heart ache just a little. She _was _invisible to him; even pushing a needle through his skin, she was still invisible.

"Oh, well, I-er- fell over some of the rocks in the courtyard." Neville mumbled. Hannah shuddered, just remembering how the castle had shaken when the giants began to throw boulders as if they were pebbles.

"Well that opened it up," she agreed, her hand shaking ever so slightly. "But what caused it?"

She wasn't usually so prying but honestly, it was the first time she'd spoken more than three words to the boy she thought she was sort of in love with. She wanted to know _everything._ Neville fell silent for a moment though and she thought maybe she'd gone a bit too far.

But then he answered. "It was when they set the Sorting Hat on fire." He said shortly. Hannah paused and drew back, taking a proper look at the mark she was busily stitching. Yes, it was a gash but if she looked closely, there were slight welts raised around it where the flames had met his skin.

"Merlin," she breathed and immediately flicked her wand for the Burn Applicator she carried with her everywhere. When your housemate is Ernie Macmillan, you learn quickly to take it with you. She carefully rubbed in just a bit, frowning at the way the welts stayed persistently raised. "This should take the edge off but I would be careful, they'll become inflamed if you fidget with them."

"Th-thanks." Neville muttered, surprised. "I was going to put some Arcadian Dew on it tomorrow."

Hannah smiled and held up the cream pot. "It's a main ingredient. But I didn't know Hogwarts grew Arcadian Dew anymore." She added, conversationally. _I can do this, _she thought gleefully. _I can get through this._

"They don't. I've been trying to come up with an alternate strain to get rid of some of the nastier properties." Neville explained, seeming a little calmer.

Hannah smiled. "You mean the whole 'wait-until-you're-sleeping-before-trying-to-strangle-you' thing?"

Neville looked almost offensively surprised. "You take Herbology?"

Hannah felt every inch of happiness she had shrink into her toes. "Every year. We're in the same class." She added, morosely. He hadn't even noticed her.

_Of course he didn't notice you idiot! _She yelled at herself. _You're a bloody wallflower!_

Neville suddenly seemed uncomfortable again and Hannah finished her stitches in silence before turning to the cuts on his wrists and hands. Surprisingly, he didn't protest as she rubbed Aloe Oil into the wounds and dabbed away the excess curse-magic that would keep the wounds from healing properly.

_I'm touching his hands. He's holding my hands…_she thought, dazed. She couldn't really understand precisely what made Neville Longbottom seem so very appealing but holy Helga was he appealing.

He was definitely cute with his dark hair and bright eyes; he'd filled out in the past few months and he was good looking, not in the regular way like that Cormac McLaggen boy but in a way that made her just melt whenever he walked past.

And he was just so sweet and awkward and adorable and so excellent at Herbology that she knew he wasn't the dunce everyone else made him out to be. The way he worked with plants made it seem like he could speak with them and she knew he was Professor Sprout's favourite student. Many times, Hannah would wonder why he wasn't put in Hufflepuff with her but it soon became apparent upon entering Seventh Year that Neville would have made a horrible Hufflepuff- he was far too much of Gryffindor.

That was what got Hannah the most: the way he looked after the rest of the students, the way he stood up to their tormentors, the way he did everything he could to help and took all problems in his stride. He made his courage seem so effortless, so mesmerizingly simple. Without the Golden Trio, Hogwarts had thought the Carrows would taint it all but Neville had supported them, even when they were about to crumble.

The moment she saw him mouthing off to the Dark Lord himself was by far the most terrifying of her existence.

_Snap out of it Hannah! _She suddenly growled. _You are not doing this, not again!_

He winced a little when she touched one of the deeper cuts at his wrist and Hannah instantly ceased the pressure. "What's wrong?" she asked in her best Healer voice.

Neville shrugged. "It's just sore from the sword."

As though that was a totally reasonable explanation.

"Sword?" Hannah frowned, her brow furrowed. Neville smiled a little and jerked his head toward the gap between Augusta's cot and the ground and for the first time, Hannah spotted the wink of silver and ruby that peeked out from beneath. "_Godric Gryffindor's sword?_" she whispered, awed.

Neville nodded, still smiling. "It's heavier than it looks though," he reasoned, rubbing his wrist. "A bugger to swing."

"You seemed to manage fine," Hannah muttered, quickly checking the wrist for any sprains. Technically, she probably should be moving on since Neville had no more life-threatening injuries but she could bring herself to leave just yet.

Neville's face darkened a little. "Yeah well, that was pretty stupid in the first place."

"Not stupid," Hannah corrected absently as she frowned at one of the long bleeding lines on his inner left forearm.

"Huh?"

Suddenly realising she'd been thinking out loud, Hannah glanced away, flushed. "N-not stupid," she whispered, seeing that he still wasn't looking away. "Brave. I could never have done that. I'd have passed out."

Then Neville did something she hadn't predicted; he blushed. As though her comment was wildly exaggerating and complimentary, he turned a very bright shade of pink she felt she hadn't seen in years. Although she'd definitely never seen him turn pink because of _her. _She made Neville Longbottom _blush._

A slow smile spread across her face, a warm, bright, inviting smile that hadn't been seen in months, maybe even years. Neville blinked. "You should smile more often," he told her, frankly.

"What?"

Realising just what he'd said but unable to take it back, Neville repeated himself, somewhat awkwardly but sincerely.

Hannah sat back and watched him, happily. "Maybe I have a reason to now." It seemed perfect; a tiny little moment of peace among all this pain and dying.

"Neville! Oh Merlin, we were worried for a moment there, we thought- well, it doesn't matter what we thought, why are you in here?"

And then reality broke it.

Hannah stood up, immediately as Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood appeared beside Neville, flinging their arms around him happily, babbling on about the Great Hall's celebrations and how he was missing out and how Harry wanted to thank him and there were so many people who wanted to speak with him and-

"Well, you're cleared Mr Longbottom," Hannah said, keeping her face completely blank. "You can go to the Great Hall now, though your Grandmother might have stay a little while longer."

And with that, Hannah Abbott turned around and walked away from her perfect moment because it wasn't perfect and there were better things for a hero like Neville to be doing than talking and flattering such a plain little nurse-healer like her.


	4. The First Time He Saw Her

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The First Time He Saw Her

He tried not to stare.

Honestly, he did.

It was just difficult because he was bewildered as to how he'd never noticed her before. Perhaps he thought that if he stared long enough, he'd suddenly have a full recollection of the friendly moments they'd shared and accidentally forgotten. Or maybe it would make up for all the time he'd just let his gaze just skirt over her, as though she were a Crawling Daisy Vine.

Whatever the reason, Neville Longbottom stared at Hannah Abbott as she flitted behind Madame Pomfrey, healing over wounds and soothing those in pain. And he found it so very strange that he seemed to know everyone she was attending and yet, up until a few hours ago, he had no idea she even existed past a name. How bizarre.

"Neville, where's my water?" Gran demanded, her voice croaky. Neville shot a spell into the transformed wooden goblet and passed it to his Gran, carefully. Augusta Longbottom had most certainly seen better days: the arrived St Mungo's healers had confined her to the cot with breathing difficulties and a case of the shakes but it seemed as though Gran was beginning to burn up and her eyes were glazed over.

Dean, Ginny and Luna had already been in to try and coerce him into the Great Hall but he couldn't leave Gran in good conscience without knowing she'd be alright. A part of him wished Hannah would come back and take care of her again; she seemed so good at it.

Hannah flitted amongst her healing patients, most of whom lit up at the sight of her. Her blood-stained robes and soft smile were synonymous with relief in their book as she toned down the pain and kept things under control. Which was really wrong, Neville thought, because she looked as if she hadn't sat down in days.

Her blonde curls had come loose and they fell about her face in a mess. The only part of her that didn't have some kind of grime on it were her hands. _Her pretty, pretty hands…_

Neville had to avert his gaze as he recalled the gentle way she'd brushed back his hair and checked over his arms. He hadn't had anyone do that in ages, since before the Carrows started their nightly detention schedule. Speaking of the devils, Neville watched as one of the Muggleborn First Year's the sibling Death Eaters had tortured began to speak cheerfully with Hannah, who smiled patiently back and healed up an overlooked cut on her arm.

"Well?" Gran suddenly snapped.

Neville stumbled out of his thoughts but the wooden goblet was still full. "Huh?"

"Are you going to _talk _to her, you stupid boy?" Gran demanded, imperiously.

Neville played dumb like he always did with Gran. "Who?" That little comment earned him a whack across the back of the head. "No." Neville answered, grimacing. "I'm not. Why would I?"

"Because obviously, she's caught your fancy. Really boy, for someone so brave as to face Lord Voldemort," Gran relished being able to say the name without fear. "You leave much to be desired elsewhere."

Neville sighed, inwardly rolling his eyes. He'd helped defeat the _Dark bloody Lord _but Gran was still complaining. "She has not," he addressed the first statement. "I'm just waiting until she can come look at you again."

"Oh pish posh," Gran waved him away dismissively. "I'm fine, fit as a fid-" Augusta suddenly broke out into horrible wheezing coughs, her eyes stinging with tears as she retched. Neville leapt to her side immediately, helping her sit up, waving his hands uselessly. _Oh Godric, not now,_ he thought, panicked. _Not after everything. What if she's not fine? What if she's sick? Hurt? She'd have told me… _He was about to call for help but-

"Can you feel this Mrs Longbottom?" came a soft, firm voice and Gran weakly nodded as a new pair of hands slowly pressed into the old witch's spine._ Pretty, pretty hands…_ "Alright, just let them pass…there you are…it's just a bit of excess from the spell, alright? Nothing to be worried over, I'll just filter the little bit remaining." Hannah soothed, gently helping Gran back into the cot.

"Thanks," Neville breathed, relief coursing through him as Gran's breaths began to seem less laboured. "I was-"

"_Aguamenti!_" Hannah interrupted, not paying even the slightest attention as she carefully helped Augusta take a few sips. "You'll need to rest Mrs Longbottom, the process if taxing. No doubt, you simply overworked yourself."

Neville didn't quite know how to feel about being ignored. One would think he'd be used to it by now and of course, he was, but he didn't know how he felt about being ignored by Hannah.

It made him feel…bad. He wanted to have her smile at him again. Like she did when she complimented him. When she said he was brave. Just the memory made him flush a little. He couldn't remember the last time someone called him that other than Gran or his friends.

Oddly, he felt it though. He _felt _brave when Hannah said it.

"I have to keep this one in line somehow dear," Gran laughed hoarsely, jabbing a gnarled finger at her grandson. Hannah laughed with her, politely.

"Well, if you'll excuse me…" she excused herself and without just one ounce of thought, Neville cried out, causing both witches to turn to him with concerned looks. _Bugger,_ he told himself. _This is not a good idea you bloody twat. Hannah's a _healer _and Gran's…Gran._

"Neville? What's wrong?" surprisingly the comment came from Hannah rather than Gran which made Neville simply harden his resolve.

"My arm," he lied. "It's hurting." Well, it was a half-lie. It _was _hurting. A bit.

Hannah's brow furrowed above her bright blue eyes. "Can you roll up the sleeve for me?" she asked, settling onto the cot beside him and taking out her wand.

He complied, feeling more and more nervous as he rolled the torn fabric. Hannah let out a sympathetic hiss as she spotted the bruises and cuts that laced where Neville had been thrown into a wall by Bellatrix Lestrange. "Why didn't you mention this before?" Hannah scolded, leaning closer in to clear the peculiarly bright bruises.

Neville couldn't answer because she was _right _there. So close he could smell a hint of jasmine scent curling off her hair. Strands of bloody, grimy, _shiny _blonde curls that almost touched his skin, tickling it gently. Skin that felt prickly and electric under her dainty, nimble fingers…

"Bugger," Hannah let out a curse that shook Neville from his daydreams which he felt both relieved and frustrated about. "This one's gotten infected. Come on, the St Mungo's tent has a cream for that. Spells will just inflame it."

Without another word, she wrapped those pretty fingers around his wrist and began dragging him along the aisles. "Wha- but, Gran…?" Neville stuttered, casting a look back at a very amused Augusta Longbottom.

"She'll be fine. I gave a bit of a Sleep Spell to help her rest. She'll be in pain for a little while before I get back so I wanted her to be comfortable," Hannah babbled away, not looking back at him as she expertly weaved them through the aisle of wounded soldiers.

Neville thought about complaining that Gran should've been told what she'd been given but quickly realised she'd probably just tell Hannah to stick her bloody spell where the sun don't shine. Or maybe, she'd just kick up a fuss and say no, since Augusta seemed to have taken a liking to Hannah Abbott.

"Here we are," Hannah announced as they reached one of the posts. Healers were rushing about, mindlessly administering and taking vitals. It was like a well-oiled machine in here, Neville thought to himself as Hannah pushed him gently into one of the seats.

She disappeared out of sight for a moment and Neville felt a slight jab of irrational fear. What if she got waylaid by one of the other Healers? What if she got lost? It occurred to him that those were stupid questions but like he said: _irrational. _"Now where did I put the…ah, here we are!" Hannah arrived back carrying a jar of mushy green paste.

"Mimbletone Concoction." He mumbled under his breath and for the first time since she'd called him brave, Hannah gave him a startled smile.

"Yes," she confirmed, needlessly. "It helps kill infections but the wound will probably scar. Nothing I can do about that until it's old, I'm afraid."

Neville couldn't help but feel a little disappointed by that; he wasn't vain enough to want them gone so he would look better but the war had left him feeling soiled and dirty and he really just wanted to get rid of the mark where Bellatrix Lestrange, the embodiment of everything he hated about the war, had touched him.

Hannah pretended not to notice his frown, which he thought was pretty decent of her, as she put the paste along the bright red wound. "You'll be fine to go to the Great Hall after this," Hannah noted, her eyes still downcast. From this distance, Neville could pick out each one of her fine golden eyelashes.

_And now you're becoming creepy. _"I'm fine here." He told her, his voice a little creaky.

"Oh?" she still didn't look at him. "But don't you want to see your friends? Your grandmother will be fine here, I can even give you updates if you like."

Neville fidgeted because he couldn't very well tell her one of the reasons he wants to stay is so he can keep watching her. _You're a bloody stalker Longbottom. _"They'll be fine without me."

And for some reason, _that _made Hannah look up. "You should see them." She said, firmly. "They'll want to know you're alive and well."

Neville hissed as the Mimbletone Concoction started to seep through. "They'll be fine." He repeated, tightly. "I've already seen a few anyway, they'll spread the word."

Hannah started to go slightly pale and her face turned sombre. "Of course. Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood were in."

"Yeah," Neville eyed her, worriedly. "Are you alright?"

"F-fine." Hannah squeaked, accidentally knocking the jar of Mimbletone Concoction onto the floor. "_Oh for Helga's sake!_" she swore vibrantly and ducked down to pick it up.

And of course, being the teenage boy he was, Neville couldn't help but notice how he got a rather spectacular view down the front of her robes when she leaned over. _Yep, you're a pervert. It's official. _It was a _very _nice view however…

"Oh Merlin," snapped a grouchy voice from behind Hannah and she suddenly stood up, turning around rigidly. Neville eyed the St Mungo's Healer behind her, speculatively. He was a tall, fat man who was giving Hannah a look like a Hungarian Horntail.

"We have to use that you know Abbott! I know it might be hard for your pea-sized Hufflepuff brain to work out but throwing Mimbletone cream on the floor is a bloody waste when infection is breaking out all over the place!" he roared, snatching the jar out of her fingers. Neville felt like tossing the bloody thing at his head.

"Sorry sir," Hannah whispered, meekly and the man disappeared, growling to himself.

Neville, on the other hand, was in shock. "Are you kidding? Who the hell was he?" he felt shocked and angry and stunned that Hannah just sat there and _let _it happen like she was a muggle punching bag.

Hannah sniffed a little. "No one. He's a St Mungo's Healer. They're professionals and they don't like mistakes." She sounded so…robotic.

"Dropping a jar is common as Toads Weed." Neville told her bluntly. She cracked a small smile at the Herbology term which made him feel a little better.

"They don't like the Hogwarts helpers," she confided, gently sweeping her wand to heal the bruises on his arm. "They've been yelling at us since they got here. I just cop the brunt because I'm an easy target. They're just stressed I suppose-"

"They're wankers." Neville blurted out and suddenly went red at the idea of saying _that _in front of _Hannah. _Blonde, pig-tailed, blushing, pretty _Hannah Abbott. _ He expected someone as nice and sweet as her to just walk off in a huff but she surprised him. Of course.

"Well, maybe a little," she agreed, giggling. "They're under a lot of pressure. People want their families back, especially now."

"They still shouldn't talk to you like that." Neville grunted, still a little flushed. "S'not right."

"And what am I going to do?" Hannah teased, trying to take his mind off the soft sting of her wand. "Yell back at him?"

"You should," Neville agreed. "But you won't."

"Why?" Hannah suddenly started, her face stormy. "Because I'm a 'pea-brain Hufflepuff'?"

"No, no, no," Neville stumbled over his words. _Godric, think, Longbottom, think! _"You're- well, you-"

The light in her blue eyes was fading fast. "Well, if that's all, Mr Longbottom, you'll be right to go." She said professionally. Even though it wasn't the first time she'd dismissed him, it was the first time he hadn't wanted her to.

"No, I mean-" Neville sighed, frustrated. "You're too nice!"

"Pardon me?"

"You, you're too nice. That's why you wouldn't yell at him." Neville felt pleased with his answer.

"How would you know?" Hannah busied herself with arranging supplies on a tray and tried her best not to sound bitter. "We've never even spoken."

"Well let's speak then," Neville tried to lighten the mood desperately. "What's your favourite colour?"

Despite herself, Hannah cracked a small smile. "What?"

"Your favourite colour, your favourite plant, your favourite teacher?" Neville babbled off. He knew that he was probably making a fool of himself but he couldn't honestly bring himself to care enough to stop.

Hannah paused for a while. "Blue. I-I like blue." She whispered, her cheeks rosy. She couldn't believe herself. What was she thinking? One second she was actually _arguing _with Neville Longbottom and now she was talking to him? Like they were, dare she think it, _friends? _Honestly, today could not get any stranger.

"That's great!" Neville cheered, brightly. "I like blue as well! We're practically the same person!"

Hannah laughed, caught off guard by his infectious brightness. It was something she'd always admired about Neville in the first place. He made things seem a little less worse when he was around. "You need some food," she told him, helping him roll his sleeve back down. The little electrical jolts were still there. "You're practically hallucinatory."

"Come with me?" Neville asked, hopefully. She felt a 'yes' bubble on the tip of her tongue but then she remembered Ginny and Luna and how brave they were and how they'd fought alongside him, how they'd hugged him, how close they were. And how much it would hurt if she saw them all again.

Hannah shook her head, politely. "I can't. Too much work to be done, I'm afraid." She was about to turn away but she suddenly found herself taking a deep breath. _I'm a Hufflepuff, _she thought to herself, determined. _We're brilliant at making friends. _"But maybe we could talk later? You know, after everything's done?"

Neville beamed, awkwardly. "Er-s-sure. Um, I'll- I'll owl you? I mean, if that's alright?" he stuttered over his words. She thought he was adorable and nodded her head, shyly.

"Sure. I live at the Leaky Cauldron." She said, quietly. She didn't want to go into reasons now and thankfully, Neville seemed to shy away from the subject as well.

"Well…until later then?" Neville said, uncomfortably.

Hannah smiled gently. "Go get some food. Your grandmother will be fine."

Neville cracked a small smile. "Thanks. And you know, if that guy comes back…well, you know, I've already yelled at a homicidal maniac today so a Healer with an attitude won't be too much of a problem, right?" Personally, he thought the joke was bad, and tasteless and awful but Hannah giggled, waving him away.

"I'll be sure to inform you next time Healer Rice irritates me. You can come threaten him with your sword." She didn't clarify to the prying ears around them that it was the _Sword of freakin' Gryffindor _but the implication was clear. Neville smiled and left and Hannah sighed, giddily because she was going to owl Neville Longbottom and things couldn't be more perfect.


	5. The Camera

**A/N: Because I love the idea of Dean and Seamus adopting a Hufflepuff.**

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The Camera

It was three days after the Battle when they found it.

"Oi Seamus," Dean called, looking at the strange, half buried glint in the dust and dirt of a fallen pillar. "Come help me move this will you?"

Together, the two boys carefully levitated the pillar away, both weak with exhaustion and injuries. They didn't mind; they'd been well taken care of and they were used to working together. Dean and Seamus, one could say, were as close to brothers as a Welshman and an Irishman could be.

Beneath the pillar was not only two crushed stone swordsman but an ogre arm, severed and still clutching a club in its grip. Dean reared away while Seamus waved a odour charm around the area.

"Godric, that's one hell of a stench," Dean commented and Seamus nodded.

"I'm guessing if we follow that ripe smell, we'll find the rest of him." He agreed, sending the ogre flesh up into flames. It disintegrated quickly, leaving only an equally repugnant smell of burning skin behind.

Both boys moaned at the renching odour. "Bloody ogres," Seamus grumbled as he piled the stone torso of the swordsmen and his legs nearby.

"Better than the wolves." Dean mentioned, his face pale under his usually dark skin. "Padma's still in surgery I think."

"She'll be right mate," Seamus comforted him, sombrely. "Not all of them are bad."

"I know," Dean agreed, grudgingly. "Professor Lupin was our best DADA teacher all seven years, hands down."

"What is that retched smell?" came a smaller, softer voice and Seamus grinned apologetically at Hannah as she came to investigate.

"Ogre flesh. Some nutter tried to burn it away." He said, sounding appropriately stunned by the stupidity of the act.

"I thought you pour vinegar on Ogre flesh?" Hannah asked, quizzically before her attention was drawn to the blood seeping through Seamus' bandaged leg. "Seamus!"

"What? You said I _should _keep off it!" he protested, innocently. "Not that I _had _to!" Dean rolled his eyes.

"I told you she'd catch you." He told his best friend.

Seamus rolled his eyes right back. "It's not that bad you sodding-"

"Boys, boys, you're both very pretty now back to the issue please?" Hannah interrupted, amused as she lowered Seamus to the ground and helped reseal the deep gash that had severed the tendons in Seamus lower skin. "You're lucky it didn't go further down-"

"Or you'd be in real trouble." Seamus and Dean both chimed in and Hannah glared at them in turn. The three had conjured a sort of camaraderie over the past few days through Seamus and Dean's injuries and their complete dedication to seeing the other get better.

Seamus had been admitted into the Non-Intensive Section just yesterday, having been found buried between a giant's boulder and a stone sword that had been cutting him up something terrible. Dean had been searching relentlessly for his brother-in-arms even while Hannah tried to keep him in his cot with his own wounds.

Hannah had treated Seamus immediately and slipped him into the cot beside Dean's, just so the two would sleep in peace. Hannah had then tried to fall asleep herself on her allotted one hour break but every time she closed her eyes, she saw terrible, gruesome things and so she busies herself helping Dean and Seamus get better.

In a strange way, Hannah had adopted the two Gryffindors but in an equally odd fashion, Dean and Seamus had taken to the Hufflepuff and they'd formed an easy bond that was no celebrated by Hannah pestering the two for not staying off their wounds and the pair teasing and keeping an eye out for the fragile Hufflepuff in a typical big brotherly way.

"You gone to sleep yet Hannah?" Dean asked, quietly.

Hannah shook her head, eyes glued to the healing skin of Seamus' left leg. "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

"Not funny. Around here at least," Seamus said, wincing.

"We all go eventually." She said in a soft tone but in her head, she counted the number of patients who had slipped away under her watch and occasionally, in her arms. "I'm up to 9."

Seamus shook his head. "You need to take a break Abbott. It'll drive you mad."

"Haven't you heard Seamus?" Hannah asked, finally looking him in the eyes. He wondered if she even noticed how much older her face looked now. "We've all gone mad in the Wing. It's a symptom of the dead and dying, Madam Pomfrey says."

"Take a break Hannah." Dean urged her, gently. "Please."

"Can't," Hannah seemed to snap out of her melancholy mood and she stood immediately. "I've got more rounds to do. I'll see you boys later?"

"Later." They both chimed.

"She's gonna crash." Seamus told Dean.

"Absolutely." Dean told Seamus.

Both of them sighed, knowing they could do nothing to help their new friend.

-:-

"It's that kid's." Dean suddenly said, half an hour later.

"What?"

"That, that kid, what's his name…Creevey!" He snapped his fingers, still studying the nicks and cracks on the old camera he'd found buried beneath the pillar and ogre arm.

"I heard he died in the first wave." Seamus replied, sombrely.

Dean sighed as well and lifted up the lens to his eye. "There's film in it. Enough for just one picture."

"That's what he amounts to?" Seamus asked, his voice rough. "One picture."

Dean watched the camera with a pensive expression before he stood with purpose. "Then we'd better make it count. Come along."

As always, Seamus followed without discussion.

They found Harry among the helpers cleaning up along with Ron while Hermione tried to talk with the House Elves who seemed to find it absolutely deplorable that the wizards should be the ones cleaning.

"Harry!" Seamus called and the bespectacled wizard turned and smiled quietly at seeing his two old house mates.

"Glad to see you two." Harry replied, brushing the dust off his hands as he pulled each of them in for a hug.

"You sure you only see two?" Dean asked, pointing to his glasses which were cracked something terrible.

Harry grinned but shrugged. "Hermione will fix them like she does every year on the train, I'd imagine. Can I help you two with something?"

Dean pulled out the camera. "This was Creevey's."

A small pause of silence fell over the threesome as the contemplated the irritating but innocent boy who's camera had been his best friend. "He's in the…in the corridor with everyone else." Harry murmured, looking upset.

"I want to take a picture." Dean said, firmly. "There's enough film for just one more shot and…I think it should be of everyone."

"Like the Order picture?" Harry checked, his brow furrowed. Since Dean had been rescued, he'd been inducted into the Order and knew the secrets of its predecessor.

"Sort of." Dean nodded.

"Right then." Harry said, clapping his hands together and wincing when the blood began to pool again. "Let's get everyone assembled."

Ron and Hermione agreed that there would be no better way to use the last piece of Collin's camera and they formulated a plan to arrange everyone in the courtyard and then take the picture from a height, to include as many as they could.

Dean and Seamus walked with Harry from area to area, recruiting people for the shot. Surprisingly, many declined and cited that they were either too busy or that they didn't want to be remembered as having been here but many more agreed that it was an idea with some merit.

Harry winced as he picked a splinter from his palms, walking toward the court yard, having found as many as wanted to be there.

Seamus noticed. "You should have Hannah take a look at that for you." He suggested and Harry looked back, frowning.

"Hannah?"

"Abott. She's a healer in the Wing now, under Pomfrey." Dean piped in. "She's brilliant. The way she tells it, the Mungo's healers are pretty abrupt. No bedside manner. Hannah's good at soothing the kids with wounds. They like her better because she still wears her tie to pin up her hair."

Harry smiled, grimly. "She sounds great. Maybe I'll ask her take this sodding piece of wood out for me." He growled, still picking at his palm.

Seamus laughed. "The great Harry Potter scared of a splinter?"

"It's annoying," he insisted as they entered the courtyard. He looked around for Ginny and made his way toward her, saying a quick goodbye to his mates as he reunited with the Ron and Hermione as well.

"Come to think of it…" Dean mumbled. "I don't see Hannah."

"I'll go get her shall I?" Seamus offered.

"No I will." Dean replied, walking off. "I thought I saw Healer Brown, maybe he knows about Padma."

Dean found Healer Brown quickly; it wasn't hard since he was the short one spouting orders. Lavender's father was the Head of Surgery at St Mungo's and would know the most about Padma's case.

"Healer Brown," Dean greeted him. "Have you heard about Padma yet?"

Dean and Padma had been dating under the radar since Sixth Year but they'd kept it secret because of Dean's undesirable status, to keep her safe. As his daughter's best friend's twin, Healer Brown had made Padma's surgery from her werewolf attack a top priority.

"She went under work last night and came out fine. She seems to be going through periods of consciousness but she's still fairly broken. The rest will take time." He told the young wizard, sadly.

Dean nodded, firmly. "She'll be fine. That's all I need to know."

Werewolf or no, Dean was very much in love. Healer Brown approved of what he saw in the young wizard's eyes and shook his hand as he passed and Dean ventured off to see Hannah for the photo.

He found her working in the tent, making pastes and he caught the jar she dropped when he startled her. "Come on Han," he said gently. "We're having a photo done on Creevey's camera in the courtyard. Let's go."

He knew something was wrong by the fact that she didn't have anything to say about it. She merely walked with him, seemingly fine but very much out of touch with her surroundings

Her eyes were glazed, her curls dirty. There was fresh blood on her collar and Dean felt a little queasy looking at it. "Hannah?"

"Yes?"

"Are you…okay?"

"Fine. And yourself?"

She was perfectly polite but completely zoned out. She took a place between Seamus and Dean, smiling briefly but emptily at Neville who was talking with Seamus beside her.

"Are you alright Hannah?" he asked, slowly.

Hannah watched him for several moments and Dean watched too, hoping maybe she'd snap out of whatever daze she was in. But her tongue simply ran along her cracked bottom lip to wet it and then she nodded and turned back toward the front tower, where a small figure was positioning the camera.

"One." He counted loudly.

Everyone stood quietly. Still. As if they were really just strangers, waiting. Hannah felt her disconnection grow and so she leaned in and blindly grabbed onto someone's hand, like a drowning woman.

"Two."

Seamus grabbed her wrist, Dean her left hand. Neville took her right just as she wished he would and for a moment, the loss of this crowd seemed to settle across the courtyard and she heard many people break out into tears.

But no one tried to cover their sobs. None tried to stop their cries.

Hannah could feel the silent sentiment grow as the crowd around her- Students, teachers, Aurors, Healers of every house-that this was a photo to be shown against their victory. _This is our triumph, _she thought, distantly. _But look at what we lost to have it._

Innocents, like Collin. Family, like herself. Health, like her Gryffindor protectors.

She had told Seamus before but he didn't seem to take her warnings of walking with a permanent limp seriously.

They were scarred in ways that she hoped would never come to pass again. These were wounds that would never heal and never fade. Much like this photo, this loss would stand as a testament to the Wizarding War.

_We were here, _the crowd seemed to breathe. _And we have been broken._

"Three!"

The bright flash.

And then nothing.

-:-

Dean found Hannah almost an hour later, sobbing and shaking near the remains of the dungeon.

"Han?" he whispered.

"She's…gone." The blonde healer croaked. "She's all gone."

"Hannah, who's gone?"

"The…l-l-little girl. She was in the d-d-dungeons by the C-_Carrows_." She spat the name out like a piece of filth. "She was just a First Year, Dean." She sobbed. "She was so young. A muggle born. And the only thing she knew about this world was _p-p-pain_!"

Dean couldn't make sense of her after that. But he found he didn't need to. He just sat down beside her and let her cry all over his shirt and when Seamus came down to investigate where he'd gotten to, he let her do the same thing to his robes.


	6. The Letters

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The Letters

**Dear Hannah,**

**Gran and I are back home and she's feeling a lot better. She finally coughed up about that spell you helped her with but she's told me I can't be cross with you for keeping it a secret. I guess I should just thank you for helping her. I suppose this is the time to ask if you had any more run-ins with that Healer guy. I'm sure I could borrow the sword for a night or so if you needed someone to yell at him for you.**

**Anyway, I don't have much more to write so I suppose I'll just end it here. Write soon. Or not.**

**Neville**

_Dear Neville,_

_Thanks for your letter. I've been told I looked much happier once I received and to be honest, it is good to hear that Mrs Longbottom's doing better. The curse is something I've had…experience in so no you shouldn't be cross. Or you could be, I suppose, if you wanted to…I don't know._

_Unfortunately, I've been helping out at St Mungo's a lot lately so yes, there have been plenty of run-ins with grouchy Healers but I'm trying to get an apprenticeship here so I shouldn't complain. The sword shan't be necessary…yet. _

_You asked me, back at the castle, what my favourite plant and teacher were and I guess I shouldn't leave you hanging (not that you _were _hanging for an answer, I know you've got better things to be doing). _

_I like Ever-White Blooms, mostly. I don't know why, I know they aren't particularly useful but there's something really lovely about the way they remain so clean, even once they've died. And my favourite teacher, well, I'd have to say Professor McGonagall. She's a spectacular teacher and always very fair. I've only gotten into trouble with her twice but she's not as biased as a lot of the other professors are._

_I've got to go but please write back soon,_

_Hannah_

**Dear Hannah,**

**Can I ask what you're doing at Mungo's? I would've thought you'd be following Madam Pomfrey; you seemed far too good to be wasted doing assistant work. What Department have you been working in? Has anyone from Hogwarts gone through yet?**

**I did ask you and yes, I was wondering what your answer would be. You know, I'm surprised because my favourite teacher is Professor Sprout. She gave me a private greenhouse in Fifth Year for me to work in. Isn't it funny that we both like the other's Head of House?**

**Also, Ever-Whites are used in Peace Potions and Sleeping Draughts- on the contrary, they're very useful. I've never seen one though; they don't grow around Hogwarts. Do they really stay white all year round?**

**Write soon,**

**Neville**

_Dear Neville,_

_After the battle was just a temporary thing. I can't shadow Madame Pomfrey until I've cleared a spot in the Apprenticeship program, which I can get much easier at St Mungo's than Hogwarts. So here I am, tired and pressured and covered in unmentionables. We've been dealing with a lot of war victims and I've seen so many curses do so many horrible things. _

_To answer your question, I'm in the Intensive Care Unit and unfortunately I've seen a lot of Hogwarts students. Some of them have passed away since the battle from their injuries and it's horrible to watch them just fade away. In fact, just a day ago, I was scheduled to help with the werewolf victims and I had to leave the room. There were so many and they were all clawed up. It made it even worse when I realised I knew some of them._

_Sorry, I shouldn't be putting all this on you. It's not fair. Actually, I don't find it funny that we fancy each other's Heads of House best. I always thought you'd make an excellent Hufflepuff, even though I'm no Gryffindor._

_My family used to live in the Abbott Estate and there were enormous trees of Ever-Whites in the back garden. Every year in autumn, it seemed as though it were snowing; there would just be this overwhelming storm of white flowers falling to the ground. I didn't know they're used in Peace Potions but it doesn't surprise me. They're beautiful to watch grow and fall, all the while staying this glowing white colour._

_Write soon,_

_Hannah_

**Dear Hannah,**

**You shouldn't worry about writing that to me. It's what friends are for. Although, if it makes you feel better, I can write about Gran; she's been getting worse and I'm starting to become worried. The Healer we called insisted that it's just the leftover residue from the curse and her old age (Gran nearly attacked him for that comment) but she seems so weak. You know about this, don't you? Is this normal?**

**I'm sorry you had to see other students. It's hard, seeing people hurt but it's worse when you know them. I still can't believe how many underage kids snuck back in to fight. They were just children. They should have listened; they shouldn't have been there at all.**

**And personally, I think you would've made a great Gryffindor.**

**Neville**

_Dear Neville,_

_Your grandmother was hit with a curse called the Black Ink Curse. A death eater by the name of Evan Rosier invented it and it's meant to slowly poison the victim and burn their veins away so they literally die from the inside out. The Healer was right- it's entirely normal to feel the effects for years after its first inflicted. That's the real sick thing about the curse. I know about it because my mother and brother were killed in my Sixth Year from it._

_The underage kids are the hardest to treat but I can't feel angry with them. I can only feel angry that it was done to them. I know that, meek and mild as I am, I would've snuck back in if I were underage. And don't lie, I know you would've too._

_My term is coming up; soon I'll be able to actually apply for an apprenticeship here, if I can just get one of the healers to sign off for it. They seem to resent me because I'm so young and I'm really good with the students. They feel better taking treatment from one of their own I suppose._

_Tell me more about your grandmother. She seems like a character, although I would've attacked the healer as well. Who asks a lady her age? Honestly!_

_Hope your well,_

_Hannah_

**Dear Hannah,**

**Thank you for your advice. Gran says she trusts your opinion a fair side more than those 'dodgy, grabby Healers'. I'm really sorry about your mother and brother. I didn't mean to pry before, I was just worried about Gran. Were you close with your brother? I think, I would've been close to a sibling, anyone to share the wrath of Gran, I s'pose.**

**I guess I can't argue that I would've snuck back in if I was underage. Even though I still think it was stupid of them, I would've, if I thought I could help. I've got some news though: Professor McGonagall is commissioning help to rebuild Hogwarts and I've been selected to start the basics. I have no idea what she's thinking; I'll probably ruin the whole damn thing. But she says that no one knows the Hogwarts garden better so I'll have to trust she knows what she's doing.**

**I hope the Healer's sign off on your application because honestly, you deserve it. If they don't, then they've lost a really great healer in the making and it's completely their own faults.**

**I don't know what to tell you about Gran- she's really tough and she doesn't like taking no for an answer. I mean, you've met her, she's got a bit of an attitude.**

**By the way, she hit me for that last comment. I don't know why she's reading my letters though. Gran has asked if you'd like to come over for dinner sometime in the future? She's really eager to complain more about Healers.**

**She just hit me again.**

**I guess, we'll both be waiting for your reply,**

**Neville**

_Dear Neville,_

_My mother was pregnant when she died; I never knew my brother. His name was going to be Christian Royce Abbott. Every year, I put Ever-Whites on their graves to show I haven't forgotten them. Maybe that's why I like them so much. Thanks, by the way. I haven't talked about either of them in a long time. It's nice, you know, to think of them both._

_I think it's wonderful that Professor- oops, Headmistress- McGonagall asked you to help. You know so much about Hogwarts and I think she knew you were the only person who could restore the gardens and the forest; it's seen too much violence, it needs a little care._

_I blushed when I read your comment about my application. Thank you but honestly, I'm not truly expecting that they'll sign me off this round. Knowing them, they'll wait til next year to sign it but it means a lot. Also, I would love to come to dinner and complain about Healers. I'm afraid I don't have a lot of friends right now and the company would be nice. But I don't have a lot of time either so, perhaps we could make it for next month or so?_

_I'm sorry she hit you. I'm sure she's just saying I love you. In a very forceful manner._

_Hannah_

**Dear Hannah,**

**It's not fair what happened to your family. It stories like that that makes me so glad that Voldemort is dead and we don't have to live that way anymore. I think when I remake the gardens, I'll plant Ever-White Blooms, somewhere near the lake so people can see it. You're right about the violence. I think it'll be the perfect thing for the future generations to see and remember us all by.**

**I can't write much (Gran's got me waiting on her hand and foot) but shall we say the fourteenth? I'd really like to show you the gardens I've got growing around the side of our house. See you soon, hopefully,**

**Neville**


	7. The Parents

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The Parents

"Oh hello there, Hannah," said the small, stout witch at the reception desk at St Mungo's, surprised. "I didn't think you had a shift today."

Hannah fidgeted, uncomfortable. "I don't, I'm here to see my dad, actually." She tried to sound cheerful but Morgan's face fell slightly, pitying.

"Of course dear," she said, quietly, sliding over a pair of passes. Hannah frowned, quizzically. "Well I take it Neville's going in with you." Morgan explained, sounding bemused. "He's here twice a week usually."

Neville behind her shuffled and smiled at Morgan, bashfully. "Hi Mrs Potts."

"Hello there dear," Morgan greeted him, happily. "You two know where to go, I suppose."

Indeed, Hannah and Neville both knew exactly where to go.

They boarded the elevator, both of them feeling intensely awkward. Hannah hands were sweaty as she thought of how her father might react to Neville's presence today. She'd only seen him every now and then, busy with school and the apprenticeship to spend enough time with him. But Hannah had long ago realised and accepted that Alan Abbott was sick and probably incurable.

It made her feel awful that she was nervous about introducing Neville. The two had gone to dinner at the Longbottom Mansion and had gone out a few times after that as friends but this was wildly different; this was _meeting the parents._

"Hannah? You okay?" Neville asked, quietly as the elevator pinged at the fourth floor. The Psychiatric Ward.

Hannah nodded, grimly. "Yes, let's go." They stepped out onto the floor and, almost on automatic, made their way down the hall to the Intense Division. "Shall we see mine or yours first?" Hannah tried to keep her tone even but it cracked, as it always did when she visited her Dad.

Neville grabbed her hand before he could talk himself out of it. "It'll be fine. How about we see mine first? I don't think your dad would want to see you upset?" he soothed.

Preoccupied with the feeling of her hand in his (which was rough from all his days working on the Hogwarts Gardens), Hannah didn't realise she was beginning to cry. She sniffed, pathetically and nodded. "Alright, yours first."

The pair entered the Longbottom's room, Room 521 and found themselves greeted by a cozy little environment, with two chairs, a table and a pair of beds. In which were the Longbottoms.

Hannah could immediately see Neville in both of them: Alice Longbottom was short and tiny, with a lovely round face and huge eyes. She seemed very pleased that Neville had entered the room and she clapped her hands, clumsily like a little girl.

Frank Longbottom, on the otherhand, seemed curious about the girl who'd entered with his son. He was much taller than his wife, very much like Neville in stature and his eyes were the same shade as well. He seemed tired and twitched when Neville came closer but didn't make much more of an effort to respond.

"Hey Mum," Neville leaned down and kissed Alice's cheek. She giggled and tried to grab his hair, her movements awkward and stiff. "Yeah, I know, I got a haircut. It was getting too long to work with since its normally sunny when I'm at Hogwarts. The gardens are looking pretty good though. They've almost got the Great Hall back up and running and it's like it was always there."

Alice patted his cheek but her gaze had turned to Hannah, who, carrying a bouquet of Ever-White Blooms, hung about at the foot of the Longbottom's beds, unsure of if Neville wanted some time alone. "That's Hannah, Hannah Abbott, Mum. Oh Dad, don't frown." Neville laughed, patting his father's hand. "She's alright. She's a Hufflepuff, she's shy. Come over."

He beckoned and Hannah walked over, delicately taking a seat beside Frank on his bed. He seemed very bewildered by her presence but something in his eyes flickered at the sight of her and Neville together.

"I'm Hannah." She murmured, gently. "I think you knew my parents at Hogwarts. My mum at least. Her name was Debra Harding, she was a Hufflepuff like me. You know your son's helping to rebuild the area around the Hufflepuff Commons? It was destroyed but since the rooms are underground, everything was alright. It's just the outside." Hannah cast a small smile at Neville, who was holding his mother's hand, carefully.

"Actually, he's put up lovage and whistlewood, because when lovage blooms, it turns golden yellow and whistlewood has black bark. It's subtle but I s'pose it's fitting, considering the House colours." Hannah shook her head, ruefully. "However shall we remain hidden now?"

"You'll find a way, I'm sure. No outsider's been in the Hufflepuff Commons for hundreds of years. Even during last year, the Carrows couldn't find their way in." Neville replied, shrugging.

"Of course they couldn't." Hannah said, proudly. "But how do _you_ know that?"

Neville sighed, laboured. "I'm working with Hermione every day. The woman can recite _Hogwarts: A History _in her sleep."

Frank let out a snore-like sound and they all laughed. Neville had explained that his parents were conscious but their minds were degraded and all but gone. They had just enough cohesion to realise when someone was in the room apart from themselves and they'd completely forgotten their son.

They continued talking but eventually, it was time for their daily naps so Neville and Hannah lifted themselves off the beds and made their way to the door. "Thanks, for this," Neville mumbled.

Hannah returned the favour and slipped her hand into his. "It's my pleasure. Honestly, your parents are sweet and kind. Just like their son."

Neville looked like he was about to reply but he paused when they heard commotion from inside the room. "Eurgh." Called Frank and Neville was immediately by his side, frowning.

"What's wrong Dad?" he asked, concerned.

Frank waved him away. "Eurgh!" he yelled again. Hannah realised he was looking at her and slowly made her way over, which seemed to calm him down a little more. Frank held out his hand and Hannah carefully slid her shaking palm beneath it, only to feel a very familiar softness brush her fingers.

"Thankyou," she whispered, realising that there was a very small part of Frank Longbottom that recognised that she made his son happy. Hannah pulled away, sniffling and showed Neville what his father had given her.

She unfurled her fingers and inside was a dry but pristine Ever-White Bloom, crumpled and dainty in her palm. Neville swallowed behind her and reached forward to hug his dad, tightly. "Thanks Dad," he said, sounding a little hoarse. "We'll be back later, alright?"

Frank seemed to switch off at that point. He grunted and walked over to where his wife was wiggling her fingers in front of her face, in total amazement. The small, sweet act of Frank taking Alice's hand as he settled in to listen to the Wizard radio was enough to break Hannah's heart as she made her way outside.

"My mum loved Ever-Whites." She whispered to Neville as they slowly walked to the next room. "She knew your Dad at school. He must have known." She didn't add the second part of her realisation that Ever-White blooms were traditionally given to the bride by the groom's parents at their wedding but she figured Neville would work it out later.

As they paused outside Room 736, Hannah hung back to speak with Neville. "Just don't mention the war, remember?" she pleaded and Neville simply nodded, having heard the precautions over and over before they'd decided to make this trip.

Hannah brightened herself and entered the room. "Hi Dad," she murmured to the man sitting at the table. He was handsome in a ruined way- time and pain had turned him grey where he was once blonde and dull where he was once blue eyed.

His face crinkled as he smiled at Hannah. "Hello darling," he said cheerfully. "My goodness, has Hogwarts ended again? So early, it seems." His gaze slid onto Neville behind her. "And who's this? A boyfriend brought home from school?"

"No Dad," Hannah blushed. "Just a mate. This is Neville. We'll only be here a little while but he wanted to say hi."

"Of course," Alan Abbott greeted, cheerfully. "Hello Neville, how are you?"

"Very well sir." Neville responded, shaking the man's hand.

"Here, darling, I'll ask your mother if she's made tea yet. _Debra? _Debra, Hannah's home!" he called and chuckled when there was no reply. "She must be in the garden. No matter. So how are you darling?" Alan pulled Hannah down into a kiss and a hug.

"Good thanks Dad. How's things here?" She handled him like a pro, Neville noted. Never pointedly referring to Hogwarts, or St Mungo's or her mother or brother. Everything was 'there' or 'here' or 'he' or 'she'. His own parents had never required this kind of treatment; he knew Hannah must hate it, see it as lying but Alan Abbott was stuck in delusions of the past and it would do no good to upset him over it.

While the three of them chatted, Neville found himself wondering about the flower his Dad had given Hannah. Frank Longbottom was one of the reasons Neville liked Herbology so much; even though he was much better at it, Frank had been a top-student back in his day. He'd known Hannah's mother so maybe it was just a gift to what he thought was an old friend?

"…and what do you do Neville?" Alan asked, agreeably. "At school?"

"Neville's helping remodel the Hogwarts Gardens Dad," Hannah began happily. "He's excellent at Herbology."

"Hannah makes me seem a lot better than I am," Neville said, modestly.

Alan laughed but he paused mid-chuckle. "Remodel? Why would they need…no. They don't need remodelling." Alan muttered to himself. Sensing the rising danger, Hannah gestured to the Healer-Button on the side of the door and Neville pressed it quickly as Alan's delusion began to crumble.

"Doesn't need it…no, there wasn't…oh no…oh Merlin, oh Merlin, no…Debra? _Debra? CHRISTIAN! _Hannah, where are they? _Hannah why are you bleeding? Hannah! Debra! Christian! Oh Merlin, no!_" the old wizard began screaming, thrashing about his room as his daughter tried to settle him.

"Dad, _Dad, _please, Dad, I'm alright! Dad, look at me, _please…_?" she begged but Neville pulled away just in time as Alan swung around and threw a chair where Hannah had once been standing.

"_Nooo! My baby! My wife, my child! My daughter! My baby! Nooo!"_ he wailed, agonized as the Security-Wizards arrived to restrain him. A Healer waved his wand and the Sedative Spell quickly took effect. "My baby…my little girl…my sweetheart…"

Hannah sobbed in Neville's grip, turning away from the scene as they slowly levitated him into bed, where Alan Abbott's fractured mind would no doubt piece itself back together by the morning, back into the hallucination that he was alive and well, living peacefully with his wife and daughter and son.

Neville slowly guided Hannah out of the room, down the elevator, barely tossing the security passes back to Morgan as he left the building. She was so tiny, so thin and blonde and pale. She hadn't been eating properly or sleeping enough, the application for her apprenticeship was driving her to destruction and all of it was pouring out of her in waves, her father's voice still ringing in her ears: _My baby, my little girl, my sweetheart…_

Though he'd never had much experience comforting witches, Neville knew how to comfort families of patients in the Psychiatric Ward and Hannah appreciated it as she clung to his shirt and bawled her eyes out. Almost fifteen minutes later, once she'd calmed down, Hannah sighed, miserably.

"He was going so well…" she whimpered. "I thought he'd be fine for today."

"It was my fault," Neville said, feeling rotten. "If we hadn't mentioned the Gardens…"

"Stop," Hannah said, tired. "It was me. I should've known that would set him off." She sighed again. "Sometimes I wish I lived in his world. It must be beautiful there."

"Well…" Neville mumbled. "I rather like you this world."

Both parties turned bright pink.

"You…you do?" Hannah whispered.

Neville nodded, awkwardly. "Well, yeah, I mean…we've been talking and we're really great mates and-"

"Right. Mates." Hannah said, morosely.

"But I'd really like it if we could be…more." Neville finished off in a whisper, so faint Hannah could scarcely believe she'd heard it.

"What?" she murmured, not daring to believe her ears.

_Come on mate, _Neville thought inwardly. _Time to show some of that bloody Gryffindor courage…_ "Look, Hannah, I don't know another girl on the planet who would come here with me today and meet my catatonic parents and treat them like you did." He began, taking a deep breath. "Nor do I know anyone who would let me meet someone so important to them and forgive me when I messed up so badly. No, it's alright, it _was _my fault.

And look, I know this probably sounds really stupid to you because you're just…gorgeous and I'm me and I know you probably want to be friends but I just can't help telling you all of this because your sweet and kind and funny and bloody beautiful and _ifancyyou_." Neville finished with a whisper.

There it was. Everything was out in the open and Neville had never felt more like throwing himself under the Knight Bus than he did now, in the face of the silence of Hannah Abbott.

"What?" came the faint, stunned whisper of words.

"I-I fancy you, Hannah." Neville said, once more, this time feeling more and more stupid for telling all this after he'd just set her father off on a panic attack and they were outside _St Mungo's._

"What?"

"I _fancy _you!" Neville yelled and was immediately greeted by a '_shush!_'. His spirits sank.

She didn't want him to tell her. She was embarrassed. Of course she was, she was beautiful and probably had hundreds of wizards ask her out, Merlin knows Neville had watched a lot of them make eyes at her when they passed by-

"Don't say it so loudly!" Hannah murmured, sounding very close to his face. Of course, he wouldn't have known since he hadn't opened his eyes since his first confession.

"Sorry, Merlin, that was stupid, can we just pretend that _didn't happen?_" Neville gushed, feeling lower than horned snails.

"It's not that."

_What?_

"What?" he echoed, dumbly. How could it _not?_

"I'm trying to keep those words to myself. I want to keep them forever." Hannah confessed, her breath brushing his cheek as she did. Neville slowly opened his eyes and found her endlessly blue gaze staring right at him, bursting with happiness. "I want them. I want them for my own. I don't want everyone else to have them." She breathed against his lips.

"They're yours." Neville mumbled, honestly.

She broke into a beautiful, bright smile. "I would be _honoured _to have them Neville. You wonderful, silly wizard." And then she kissed him.

And it was soft and sweet and Hannah realised her mother had been right:

You really did see stars.


	8. The First Date

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The First Date

"So where should I take her?" Neville asked, nervously. "I mean, I guess we could go to the Cauldron-"

"Are you kidding?" Ron complained, harshly. "I skipped my date with 'Mione to listen to you whine about where to take Hannah?" This wasn't entirely true, since Hermione had been held up at Hogwarts, organising the underwings of the House Elves' kitchens and dorms.

"He's nervous Ron," Luna observed, drifty as always. "I suspect the Herlis have gotten to him."

"Luna," Ginny warned her friend before turning back to Neville. "Why are you so worried?"

"Because I've got no idea what she likes!" Neville stated, miserably.

He'd found Ron moping around Diagon Alley and had recruited him to help with planning his date with Hannah tomorrow night, along with Ginny and Luna, who found his determination _"absolutely adorable!"_. They sat at a booth in _The Pale Unicorn _bar and alehouse, Neville feeling more and more disastrous as they continued on with the evening.

"Get her flowers, tell her she's pretty and take her out to the Cauldron for drinks." Ron waved his hand dismissively. Ginny promptly smacked her brother upside the head and he winced dramatically, glaring at her. "What was that for?"

"I think what Ginny means is that Hannah lives at the Leaky Cauldron, doesn't she?" Luna pondered, quietly.

"Where else can I take her? It's a first date, isn't that sort of…important?" Neville asked, unsurely. He'd only really been on two dates before: one with Ginny to the Yule Ball and another with Parvati Patil toward the end of Sixth Year.

Neither had ended well: he'd stepped on Ginny's feet all night and Parvati's outfit got in the way of a mug of butterbeer he dropped.

He really wanted it to be different this time.

"Why does she live there?" Ron asked, a little more contrite after his sister's hit.

"Her family's gone." Neville admitted quietly. "She doesn't want to be there alone."

Ron patted Neville's back awkwardly. "Sorry mate."

"It's fine," the older boy insisted. "But can you see? Hannah's been killing herself over getting an apprenticeship at St Mungo's for months. She doesn't live at home, she doesn't have family to talk to. Susan Bones and Leanne Lewis were both killed in the Battle and they were her best friends." Neville sighed. "I just want her to have fun."

-:-

"He _will _have fun, Han," Dean reminded her as he perused through her vial cupboard again. "And are you sure you didn't have anymore rat's tail?"

"Positive." Hannah replied, still fretting from within her wardrobe. "Oh Godric Dean. I'm a mess!"

"Who doesn't have rat's tail?" her tall friend muttered, paying no attention to his worrying friend.

"I don't!" Hannah called.

"Well neither do I," Dean snapped back. "But _I'm _not a Healer in the making."

"I haven't even gotten the position yet." Hannah toned down his excitement as she exited her bedroom once more in a dark wool skirt and a white sleeveless shirt. "What about this?" she asked, nervous.

"It's fine."

"You didn't even look!"

"They're all fine," Dean stressed, wishing Seamus would hurry up and arrive so he could take care of Hannah's worrying. "Who'd you say your date was again?"

"Haha." Hannah said, retreating back into her room while Dean checked the pantry again. "I didn't. I don't want either of you attacking him."

"Who're we attacking?" Seamus asked, cheerfully as he entered the room and dumped himself on the couch.

"Hannah's date." Dean filled him in as he took in his friend's exhausted posture. "Rough day?"

"Not bad." Seamus cracked his knuckles. "Fortescue's son is fussy though, I'll tell you. He wants the walls down to the nearest third of an inch!"

Seamus had entered a reconstruction job in one of the Ministry supported firms that were being used to help rebuild residential and business buildings that had been lost during the War. While he was thrilled to finally be able to use his demolition talents and architectural creation was something he was most definitely interested in, Seamus was having trouble with the people side of things.

"You've just got to be patient with them Seamus," Hannah called out, her voice muffled by what was presumably yet another outfit. "They've lost everything; they deserve to be fussy."

Seamus rolled his eyes as she entered in a long pair of dark grey-blue robes. "Aren't those funeral robes?" he asked, morbidly.

Hannah shuffled on her toes before disappearing. "…Maybe."

"Hannah, you'll do fine," Dean mumbled, having discovered cereal in Hannah's pantry and was gleefully tearing into it. "You'll take back control the second you know where you're going."

"Shut up!" she called back. "And stop eating my food Thomas!"

Dean cocked his head toward Seamus. "Do you hear anything? I certainly don't."

"Me neither," the Irish wizard shrugged. "Give us some?"

Hannah reappeared some time later back in her pyjamas and sat on the couch, sulking.

Seamus nudged her with the box of cereal. "You know we wouldn't really attack him. I just said it to worry you."

His newest friend elbowed him back and snatched the cereal. "I know you did."

"Then why not tell us?" he asked, though he certainly had his suspicions. Hannah liked to believe she was being sneaky but Diagon Alley was only so big.

"I don't know," Hannah muttered. "I don't want you to make a big thing of it."

"It is a big thing," Dean complained. "Little Hannah's off on her big date."

"We're so proud." Seamus replied, laughing.

Hannah let out a reluctant smile. "Shut up, both of you." She sighed, heavily. "I'm sorry about the clothes." She waved her hand backward toward her room. Dean and Seamus both snickered.

"I just wanted other opinions." She complained.

"The fact that you came to us, for _fashion-_" Dean started, laughing.

"You need other opinions on your head, healer." Seamus sniggered.

"Yeah, yeah, poke fun." Hannah replied. "I just want it all to go well. I like him."

Having both grown up with younger sisters, Seamus and Dean were all too familiar with this sort of pre-date ramble. "It'll go fine." Seamus insisted, dismissively.

"I'm just making a fuss because I don't know where we're going." Hannah admitted, going a bit pink. "It's a surprise."

"You don't even have a clue?" Dean asked.

"I have-"

-:-

"No bleeding idea." Neville admitted as they exited the _Pale Unicorn _for the night.

"Well you'll figure something out." Ginny assured him. "Seeyou tomorrow Neville."

They said their goodbyes and left, leaving Neville alone in the empty street. He sighed and watched a few late night patrons lock up and quietly remembered when Diagon Alley would be filled all the time, all night and all day.

_It'll take time, _he told himself. _People have to remember and realise they're safe._

He made his way, idly toward the entry to the Ministry, wondering if perhaps he could be bothered paying a visit to the Fountain of All. He always enjoyed seeing his friends carved out in gold; though they wouldn't admit it, the artists had used specific inspiration for the sculptures.

The two wizards looked suspiciously like Harry and Ron and the witch resembled Hermione somewhat. The House Elf was definitely similar to Dobby with his tennis ball shaped eyes and pointed ears. The centaur depicted Firenze and the goblin, Griphook. Fairies and Veela also stood amongst the group, one of which looked similar to Ginny's brother's wife, Fleur.

But there were more and more creatures being added every day. A giant –or half-giant was perhaps more accurate since a giant would hardly fit in the Ministry Hall- was under construction and Neville heard rumours of werewolves and vampires being added as well. No longer did the other creatures look up toward the witch and wizard. Now they all stood, in a circle bordering the fountain, equal and formidably united.

Neville found himself in front of the Fountain of All Magic just a few minutes later and as he stared at the glittering monument, he realised _exactly _where he was going to take Hannah on their date.

-:-

"I've got it!" Hannah called though she knew her two friends were in no state to grab the door. Citing the day off, in Dean's case, from political relations in the Ministry, the odd trio had decided to stay indoors as the two ex-Gryffindors attempted to get Hannah drunk to take off the edge to her nerves.

Unfortunately, Hannah handled her liquor better than either of them and so while they were nearly passed out in the sitting room, she had dressed herself, fixed her hair and prepared as much as she could whilst waiting for Neville to arrive.

She opened the door and smiled automatically when she spotted Neville in the hallway, looking awkward. "Hi there." He greeted, shyly.

"Hello." Hannah opened the door wider but then thought better of it. "I'd show you around but I have two of your old friends in with me and their currently shitfaced so that might not be a good idea." She babbled.

"Which friends?" Neville asked, amused.

"Seamus and Dean," she admitted. "We've gotten close since the Battle. Dean and Seamus live close by though you wouldn't know it the amount of time they spend here."

Neville laughed and held his arm out. "Then we should get going, shouldn't we?"

"Let's." she agreed, grabbing her bag and leaving with him after locking up her room. The conversation was light and somewhat stilted by nerves on both parts but in the end, Hannah found herself enjoying their walk through the Alley. "So where are we going?"

"You'll see." Neville said, looking proud of his choice already. He glanced at Hannah on his arm and looked away, nervously. "You look…really beautiful, tonight…Hannah." His compliment sounded awkward even on his own ears.

"Thanks," Hannah blushed, glad for the simple dark green summer dress she'd finally picked out. "You too." Realising her error, she paused and turned back to her date. "I mean, not beautiful. Handsome. Very handsome. Or beautiful, you know, which ever."

"Thanks," Neville accepted the comment gracefully, confusing though it was. When they reached the Ministry entrance, a payphone box in which Neville and Hannah squeezed in together. _62442, _Neville pressed the numbers and a voice asked after his business at the ministry.

"Neville Longbottom, Order Member. Hannah Abbot, Witch." Neville addressed both of them and the box began to move down slowly. He turned to Hannah, shyly. "I was tempted to say Healer but it wouldn't have registered."

Upon getting to the bottom, two passes were issued, one gleaming silver and the other a plain parchment colour with their names. After they passed through security, Neville took Hannah's hand and they made their way through the Atrium to the very end, where a small, little known and sparsely used door lay.

Neville opened it with a key he'd gained off Professor Sprout and ushered Hannah inside. She had to duck her head but the view on the other side was incredible.

"Oh wow, Neville." She sighed, looking around at the high glass ceilinged greenhouse. Everywhere she looked, flowers bloomed and trees thrived and if she listened, she could hear water trickling somewhere.

"I used to come in here when my Gran came to the Ministry," Neville explained, taking the steps down from the balcony where they had entered from. "It's the Evangeline Orpington Memorial Gardens."

"It's beautiful," Hannah admitted, truthfully. The whole room was just…alive with colour and thrumming with vitality.

"I'm glad you think so." He took a seat on the edge of the pond that lay in the middle of the room, constantly bubbling and rippling under its charms. "Not many people know about it, unfortunately but if they did, I guess it'd be harder to get into."

Under the water of the pond lay a golden face, eyes closed as it sat on the bottom of the pool. Evangeline Orpington was one of the greatest Ministers to have ever been in office but she'd died from an assassination during her fourth year.

"It's like she's breathing." Hannah sighed, watching as the bubbles and ripples of the pond matched in time with her own breaths. She turned back to Neville who looked nervously at her. "It's wonderful Neville. Thankyou so much." She reassured him, smiling.

After almost an hour of conversation, Neville suggested they go grab something to eat and Hannah produced the picnic she'd prepared and stashed in her bag. Neville looked at her, entertained as she tried to defend her obsessive preparation plans and finally she just put a devilled egg in his mouth to stop the smile spreading across his face.

Once finished, they took another turn around the garden which ended in a chase. "Stop it!" Hannah called, laughing as she edged around the fountain, avoiding her date on the other side. "I don't like being tickled!"

"But I just want a hug." Neville protested, innocently. "Come on Hannah, give us a hug…"

"No!" she shrieked as he pounced to one side and too late, she tried to manoeuvre away, accidentally throwing both of them into the pond.

The dark consumed them as Hannah felt around for the bottom of the pool with her hands and pushed herself up off Evangeline Orpington's nose. She burst through the surface just as Neville did and they both stayed silent for a second before they burst into giggles.

"Oh Helga," she wheezed, treading water to keep afloat. "I haven't laughed so hard in ages."

"Me neither." Neville gasped as he tried to grab onto the edge of the pond. "Feels good."

"Absolutely." Hannah agreed, trying to copy him but they found the edges to be far too slippery to haul themselves out. Just as she was about to try to summon her wand, she felt the currents of the pond suddenly shift.

Which was odd. Because ponds don't have currents.

"Neville…?" she began but suddenly the golden mouth below her opened and the dark gaping hole sucked her under the water with a vengeance.

"Hannah!" Neville called out, panicked but he soon joined her, unable to refuse the sweeping suction of the opening.

The way down was…bumpy. They both remembered that. And wet. All of it was underwater and it was almost at the very end of the tunnel that Hannah found herself gasping for breath, collapsed ontop of Neville as they lay on the grassy bank of- of…?

"The Black Lake?" Hannah wondered, her eyes readjusting to the sight around her. It was Hogwarts, of course and she knew it was the lake she and Susan and Leanne had all enjoyed every weekend while here. She could even see the tree where they'd carved their names in the bark.

But it was so different.

There were new trees and flowers and shrubbery, all of which seemed to burst with vitality. The entire area seemed as though it had suddenly opened its eyes for the first time and the colour and life was incredible.

Hannah rolled off Neville and they both caught their breath after a few moments. "Are you okay?" Neville asked, panicked. "I had no idea it would do that…Imagine that, a secret tunnel in and out of the Ministry to Hogwarts."

Hannah laughed and lay back on the grass, her chest heaving. "This," she panted. "Is one hell of a date, Neville Longbottom."

Neville laughed, breathily. "Glad you think so. I really just wanted you to like it."

"I did." Hannah rolled onto her side and in a fit of bravery she didn't know she had, leaned up and kissed Neville smack on the mouth. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Neville replied in a daze as they kissed again. And again. And again.

It was almost half an hour later when Hannah pulled away and looked confused. "Neville?"

"Yes?"

"Where are our wands?"


	9. The Baby

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The Baby

"_Don't touch her!" Hannah screamed as her baby's wails grew louder and louder in her ears. "Give her back, please!"_

"_Aw, is the ickle baby sad?" that twisted, cruel falsetto voice echoed within the darkened room and Hannah tugged at her restraints without success. "Maybe the wittle baby-waby needs a nap?"_

"_Don't! Please!" Hannah shrieked._

_There was a whispered curse and a flash of green light. Suddenly the wails stopped._

"_Nighty-night, baby." Bellatrix whispered in her ear._

"NO!" Hannah screamed, hysterically as she reached to her right and grappled for her wand on the nightstand. With it in her hand, she shot a Stunning Curse at the wall in front of her, unthinkingly and the red light made a sear mark in the plaster.

Gasping for breath, her mind started to come back to reality as she took in the empty bedroom before her and the huge bump of her stomach beneath the sheets. Wheezing with relief, Hannah dropped wand back on the nightstand and held her stomach with protective arms. "It's okay sweetheart," she whispered, catching her tears as they dripped from her cheeks.

She used the corner of the sheets to wipe her face of sweat and tears and slowly slipped out of bed, the bump of belly making the action harder than it usually would be. Eight and a half months, she marvelled as she slid her feet into her slippers. The tiny person inside her was almost ready to come out.

"And when you do," she told her bump. "You are going to be the safest baby in the world."

As she always did when she woke up in the middle of the night, Hannah glanced at the empty spot alongside her and sighed as she exited her room. She saw the light at the end of the hallway and went to it, wishing he would just stay in bed alongside her, just one night.

Neville had been on edge for the past eight and a half months, ever since she'd announced her pregnancy at Christmas. Everyone had been thrilled except the one person who should've been and he was more nervous than anything else.

It was only later that she'd been informed that Harry and Ron's unit of Aurors were tracking down a couple of underground Death Eaters who had been targeting war heroes and their families. Neville had thought he and Hannah would be safe considering they had the least collateral but a baby had sent them clattering up the list of potential targets.

Even while Harry swore they were close to catching them, even while Hermione herself cast ward upon ward around the recently renamed Longbottom Estate, even when Ron ordered regular checks on them, Neville would not be assured.

To him, it was far too similar to the stories that he'd heard surrounding his own childhood, when his parents had gone into hiding like the Potters to protect him from what soon became Harry's burden.

In the end, it hadn't mattered. Bellatrix had gotten to them anyway.

Hannah shuddered, thinking of the vile woman who had caused her husband so much pain. Her dreams were filled with shadowy spectres of the Death Eater and her cruel threats against her unborn child.

"Neville?" Hannah murmured, pushing open the door to the study. He was there, as he always was, looking over holiday paperwork from school or their own family book keeping.

Neville frowned when he saw her and Hannah had to keep her hurt sealed. She remembered when there was a time he would've been happy to see her. Eight and a half months ago, he would've smiled at seeing her. "What's wrong?" he asked immediately but Hannah just pulled up a chair beside him near the desk.

"I don't know," she said, stubbornly. "You tell me."

"Hannah-"

"Don't _Hannah _me, Neville Longbottom." She snapped. Her dreams and lonely bed had pushed her well over the edge of her pregnancy hormones. "Tell me what is wrong with you or I swear, I am going to check myself into St Mungo's and you won't see me until after she's born."

Neville sighed. "We've been over this, love, nothing's wrong. And it's dangerous for you to be outside the wards, you know that."

Hannah felt like screaming. "Neville," she leaned over and grasped his hands. She guided them all the way to her stomach before he yanked them away. "_That _is what's wrong."

"Hannah, go back to bed," Neville avoided her gaze.

"Not until you tell me why you're refusing to go through this with me." She stated. She was sick of backing down.

"You got out of bed to pick a fight with me?" he asked, frowning. "Go to sleep, this isn't good for the baby-"

"Oh, so _now _you care about her?" she finally yelled. "Where was that fatherly intention for the past eight months?"

"Of course I care!" Neville yelled back. "And I have done everything you've asked! I got pickles when you had those weird cravings! I held your hair during morning sickness, I got you potions, books, spells!"

"Neville, you would do that for a stranger," she nearly sobbed. "You're a good man and that's what I love about you. But you haven't engaged in the slightest with our daughter and I- I'm starting to worry you never will." She ended in a whisper.

"That's absurd."

"It's not." She shook her head and sat back down, having found her way to her feet during their argument. "It's not fair to her. She needs her Dad. She needs you."

"She has me."

"Not really. She doesn't really. You're just acting like…like it's someone else's child. Like you're doing it out of courtesy or something." Hannah rubbed her eyes. "Just tell me why you don't want her-?"

"Of course I want her!" Neville yelled, shock evident in his tone. "Of course I love her! She's ours!"

"Then why can't you act like it?" Hannah shouted back.

"Because I can't lose her!"

Hannah's shoulders slumped. "What?"

Her husband pressed his palms into his eyes, tiredly. "What if she leaves us, Han? What if she dies? What if they get to her? What if there are complications? What if we leave her? What if someone tortures _us _into insanity?" he finally looked at her, eyes red and raw. "I can't do it, Hannah. I don't know how."

"Neville, I- I don't know what to say," Hannah stammered, shocked as she moved to sit beside him on the couch in front of the fire. "Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"Because you don't deserve to go through this pregnancy paranoid." He confessed.

"I deserved to know the truth," she stuttered. "I deserved to go through this pregnancy _with you!_ Neville, how could you think that? We have three separate Healers telling us she's fine and healthy and ready to see us. What do you mean 'what if'?"

"I grew up without either parent, Hannah and it's not fun." He sounded more bitter than she'd ever heard him. "If I don't…get close…maybe it won't hurt her as much."

"That's ludicrous."

"It's how I think," Neville shrugged. "I'm mad, obviously."

"Give me your hand." Hannah demanded and she slowly put it across her belly. They both felt the small kick their little girl made against her flesh. "Feel that? She is perfectly safe. You and I are keeping her safe. And we are going to keep protecting her until the day we can't. Understand?"

"And us? What if these psychos find us, Hannah?" he asked, desperately. "Harry says he's close but what if he's not close enough?"

"Neville, Ginny has James. Do you really think Harry is going to let these cretins run around for a second longer than he can possibly manage?" Hannah asked, rhetorically. "Bellatrix isn't here. Neither of us are going to be hurt by her any longer. What happened to you, _will not _happen to us."

"But how do you know?"

"I know." She said, simply. "Everything will be fine. We will be fine. But this little girl isn't. Unless you start shaping up into the parent I _know _you are not the father you're trying so desperately to keep at a distance."

Neville slowly moved his hand back to her bump and there was another two kicks as though she was saying hello to her father. He let out a shaky smile and nodded.

"I'm holding you to your word, Longbottom." He told her, warningly.

Hannah smiled and let him lead the three of them back to bed. "I'd expect nothing less, Longbottom."

-:-

Twelve days later, Hannah went into labour and gave birth six hours later to a little girl, Alice Ginny. She was seven pounds, sixteen inches with ten fingers and ten toes and Neville considered her to be absolutely perfect.


	10. The Family

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The Family

"_Daddy! Alice is picking on me again!_"

"I was _not!_"

"Was too!"

"Your turn." Hannah called as she single-handedly cooked dinner and carried her third baby at the same time. The bump was more pronounced than ever and Neville knew any day now they were going to have another Longbottom on their hands.

Sighing dramatically, Neville made his way to the playroom of the Longbottom Estate, previously called the Abbott Home, and was greeted by the accusing eyes of his six year old Frankie Christian and nine year old Alice Ginny. To his surprise, after Hannah had been convinced that Neville had never actually dated the fiery haired Potter, the two witches became rather good friends and Ginny was Alice and Frankie's godmother.

"_He _started it!" Alice screeched, pointing a finger at her brother who gaped, offended at the accusation.

"I _did _not!"

"He did so! He was asking _stupid _questions!"

"I was not!"

"Yes you were!"

"They _weren't stupid!_"

"Oi," Neville called over the accusations. "Both of you shush and tell me what's going on. _One _at a time." He clarified as both his children began to open their mouths. "Frankie?"

Frank sniffled. "I asked Alice how you and mummy met because Uncle Harry and Auntie Ginny met at Hogwarts and I thought you did too-"

"And I _told _him that of course you did because where else do boy wizards meet girl witches?" Alice blinked her bright blue eyes up at him, innocently, so much like her mother with her soft pink mouth and pale skin. Frankie's confused, dark eyes were all Neville's though.

"But Mummy said they didn't!" Frankie yelled.

Neville picked his son up to divert his attention from another fight. "Come on you two, dinner's getting cold." He smiled at the way Alice insisted she would beat them to the table and the way Frankie tried to force his father to move faster so they would win. Neville moaned and groaned about how hard it was to move with all the added wait and Frankie giggled, making toothy smile like his namesake's.

Hannah and Neville had been married almost ten years and nothing made Neville prouder than to know he had a beautiful, spectacularly kind wife he was very much in love with, a sweet little girl that would never have a boyfriend if he could help it and his energetic, giggling son, who was absolutely perfect in his own right.

"Mummy, Mummy, I won!" Alice crowed as they started dinner. Frankie frowned but just kept stabbing his meal in retaliation. Neville helped him chop up his food so he could eat it easier and solemn dark eyes looked up at his Dad, his hero as he did.

"Yes you did baby." Hannah kissed Alice's honey blonde locks and tucked in her seat. "Now elbows off the table."

As a mother, Hannah was in her element. It was perfect mix of care-taking, love and maternal instinct that made her a spectacular mother and wife and Neville couldn't remember ever being so lucky in his whole life.

Neville winked at Alice and dragged his elbows onto the table. Hannah didn't even look up from serving Frankie his peas to smack Neville on the back of his head. Alice giggled as her Daddy winced theatrically. "She gets that from Gran," he whispered to his kids who laughed as Hannah threw him a cheeky look.

"She doesn't invite me over just for tea you know." She hummed, smiling. "Which reminds me, Harry and Ginny are coming round for tea next weekend."

"Is James coming?" Alice squealed at the thought of her best friend. "We need to talk about what we're gonna take to Hogwarts."

"I'm sure he will love but that's two years off, why don't you give it a rest?" Hannah replied. "Frankie, eat your peas, please."

"I don't like them!" Frankie wailed. Neville scooped up a spoonful and ate them with a gratifying hum.

"How can you not Franko? They're like little green puffapods!" he cheered as Frankie dug into his peas. Hannah beamed at him, amused.

"Relate everything to plants, I swear, why did I marry you?" she teased.

Neville leaned over and kiss her soundly. The electrical jolts were still there after all these years. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Still does." She admitted, deepening the kiss. They were interrupted by the chorus of 'ew' they received from their kids and backed away with a silent promise of 'later'.

"Mummy?" Alice asked, smelling another victory. "How did you meet Daddy?"

Hannah smiled, fondly. "Well, your father has terrible eyesight dear. He didn't notice me until out Seventh Year, during the battle Uncle Harry and Daddy fought in."

"Was it bad?" Frankie asked, wonderingly as he kicked his legs under the table.

"It was very bad." Hannah confirmed. "I know because I was a Healer for the people who got hurt. That's how I met your father."

"So it _was _at Hogwarts!" Alice yelled.

"But it wasn't at school!" Frankie argued.

They both turned to their father who shrugged and looked at his wife, who was still beautiful and kind and sweet as she had been when his Gran had first snapped at her, bringing her to his attention.

"Your mother and I met at Hogwarts, though it wasn't at school," he began diplomatically before he smiled and took her hand under the table. "She stitched me up."


	11. The Question

**Stitch Me Up  
><strong>_Tress Blues_

The Question

"Professor?" James gulped, knocking on the door of the Greenhouse.

Neville lifted his head enough to show he had registered James' presence as he hastily scribbled his last comments on one of his Second Year's essays. "Come in James." He looked up as the Seventh Year approached his desk and smiled. "How are you?"

"G-Good, Professor." James swallowed his nerves, unsuccessfully.

"Call me Neville, James," his teacher laughed as he sat back in his chair. "What can I help you with?"

"Well…you see- sir- I…er, I wanted to ask you a question." James stammered out.

Neville hid his smile but it was nearly impossible considering how amusing it was to see the suave teenager reduced to nerves. "Alright, what's the question?"

"I-um- I want-I need- I-I-I think I need to sit down." James gasped, sitting in on of the stools behind the benches.

"Take your time," Neville urged but having caught the sight of a little black box in James' possession not long ago, he had already guessed what James wanted to ask. But he decided to make the kid sweat a little first and since becoming a teacher, he knew how to make students nervous.

"Alright…" James wheezed and after a few minutes, he spoke, his voice quiet but with growing determination. "Sir, I wanted to ask you something. About Alice."

Alice Longbottom and James Potter had been inseparable from the time they were babies.

It was half due to the fact that their parents were good friends and half due to the fact that ever since James had pulled toddler Alice's hair and she'd whacked him for it, he'd thought she was pretty cool.

The pair were closer than they were to their own siblings and fiercely protective of one another. This, of course, stretched from people who pestered James for being the son of Harry Potter to wayward boys who flirted with Alice to get their Herbology marks raised.

Alice was her mother's daughter; curly blonde hair, fair skin, a tiny stature that made her seem deceptively fragile. But as her family discovered during her Sorting ceremony, she was a Gryffindor at heart like her Daddy and it definitely flourished at school. Alice was stubborn and nonsensically committed to helping everyone.

James, on the other hand, was a destructive mix of Weasley and Potter: he had a knack for trouble, a certain penchant for bravery to the point of stupidity. He was a dark auburn-haired, brown eyed, freckly piece of wizard who charmed girls like it was going out of style.

But even through their first years of Hogwarts when it was uncool for boys and girls to be friends, their bond withheld the teasing and scrutiny and in the end, they came out of it closer than ever.

A little too close for Neville's liking.

"_They're just friends, love,_" Hannah said. _"You never used to have a problem with them."_

"_You mark my words,"_ Neville replied. "_They won't stay that way for long."_

It wasn't a secret that James liked to date pretty girls but it certainly a surprise to everyone but Neville when he and Alice came home from school in the Summer of Sixth year to announce that they were both mad for each other.

_It'll never last_, the public said.

_Be careful or you'll ruin your friendship,_ their parents warned.

_If I see a single finger on her in my presence, you'll regret it_, growled Neville.

"Yes…?" Neville drawled.

"It's really…important." James said, slowly. "Because I know how much she loves her family. How much she wants your approval."

"Go on." Neville urged, casually studying the essays in his hand again.

"And so I need you to know that I'd never do anything to hurt her," James' voice was stronger as he spoke about Alice. "That I'd do anything to protect her and keep her happy."

"Keep her?" Neville said, idly. "You want to _keep_ my daughter?"

"Not like that!" James rushed. "I meant, make her happy not keep her in the house or anything- I-I know she wants to go into the Ministry and I'd never try to stop her or anything…"

"Deep breaths James," Neville reminded the boy, idly.

"Right." James breathed. "I meant that I want her to be happy. As happy as she can possibly be."

"To make it easier on you?" Neville asked, raising his eyebrows. "Relationships aren't always happy."

"I know," James rushed on. "I want her to be happy because she deserves it. She wants to go into Beast Division Regulations, you know? For Aunt Padma?"

Padma Thomas had been bitten by a werewolf during the Battle of Hogwarts and had been badly mangled in the incident. Her husband, Dean Thomas, one of Hannah's closest friends, had married her in spite of what she considered to be her burden and they now had two children, twin girls, Poppy and Holly.

But Padma was still mistreated within society, despite her status as a War Hero. Neville knew how much it incensed his daughter to see the injustice and prejudice of the old ways still lingering now.

"I know." Neville agreed, observing the way James' eyes glazed over when he spoke about Alice and how his mouth quirked upward into a proud smile.

"And, anyway, I wanted to- I wanted to ask if-" James seemed to be summoning his courage so Neville cut in, his gaze still fixed on his essays.

"Did you know that there are seven ways the Hydra Plant of Southern Ethiopia can kill you?" the Longbottom patriarch asked, innocently. "Strangulation, biting, poisonous leaves, roots, and flowers, inch long thorns that can make you bleed out if you fall on one. Not to mention that some of the heads have hypnotic powers. They can make you want to throw yourself off a cliff if you're not careful."

James frowned, confused. "N-No. Sir. Neville. Professor?"

"And the Flutterby Bush? It seems pretty harmless but the roots are absolutely deadly when they're mixed with food." Neville continued, absent-mindedly. "And what's more, it's completely undetectable. It looks like a heart attack from the outside."

"R-Really?" James gulped.

"That's just two species. There's a whole world of poisons and malevolent instinctual responses in Herbology. My Second Years had to write essays," Neville explained, waving the parchment. "On a deadly plant they found interesting. It's a fun assignment actually, I remember you did it way back when." He chuckled.

James looked pale. "The Nigerian Axe Tree."

"Yes, that's it." Neville recalled, leaning back. "A spectacular kind of plant that waits for its prey to rest before it drops its razor sharp branches right across them." He seemed to startle himself back into reality and he turned back to James. "Sorry James, what were you going to ask?"

Every inch of courage James had went into his next question. "I wanted your blessing, Mr Longbottom. To marry Alice."

Neville couldn't deny he was impressed, considering the boy's pallor. He'd thought he would've given in by now and asked another day. But of course, that wasn't James Potter. The boy who never ran away, the teachers called him.

Because whether it be a school yard fight or helping someone else or getting in trouble, James did not run or flinch or cower.

It simply wasn't in his blood.

"Hmm." Neville said, contemplatively. "I want to ask you a question James."

"Yes sir?"

"You want to keep Alice safe?"

"Yes."

"You love her?"

"With everything I am," James admitted, honestly.

"You want to make her happy?"

"Of course."

"Even if it's not with you?"

James paused. "…Even if it's not with me." He finally agreed.

Neville sighed. "James do you have any idea how stressful it is to be thrown out into the world, expected to make a living and pay for yourself and become a self reliant adult?" He stood out of his chair and rubbed his eyes. "You and Alice have only months to graduation."

"I was going to ask her at Graduation, actually." James admitted.

"And to add the pressure of marriage to all that?" Neville continued. "You'll drive yourselves mad trying to keep up and the last thing I want is for you to crack under that insane workload."

"Alice and I could do it." James challenged.

"I'm sure you could," Neville agreed. "But would you come out of it for the better? James, marriage is for two, mature and respecting adults. It's for people who are ready to commit to one another through everything-"

"I am ready to commit to Alice!" James stood up, affronted.

"I know you are," Neville countered. "But are you telling me you'd both be okay with the immensely long hours you'll both be going through? You with Auror training and her working from the bottom of the Ministry? It's nothing to take lightly, James, it's hard work."

"We could do it." James repeated. "We're in love."

"You're both still young." Neville reminded him gently. "Hannah and I nearly broke up during her Healer Training. It's a lot of lonely nights and days without seeing each other. And with the added expectations of marriage?"

"My parents did it." James rebutted, trying not to seem sulky. "You and Hannah got married early too."

"To be honest James, we had a hell-bound War that made us mature a lot faster than any of us would've expected." Neville explained.

"So what? Because I don't have a war, I can't marry Alice earlier than most?" James snapped.

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying that a lot was sacrificed so that you could grow into your maturity," Neville said, reasonably. "Not be pushed into it. Your father was wiser than anyone should've been by the age of fourteen, James but it wasn't his choice. I'm not saying, go off and explore being with other people. I'm saying that you need to give whatever you two have, enough time to grow into what you want it to be."

"It's not fair." James moaned. "All I want is her. Why can't we just be together?"

Neville took a seat beside the young wizard. "Wouldn't you rather wait a year, focus on maintaining yourselves outside of school and your families so that when you do get married- when, not if- you can give it everything you have?"

"I hate it when you make sense." James complained, lightly. "But I get it."

"A year or so," Neville said firmly. "Give it a year or so and then come back to me and ask again, alright? And I will be happy to give you every bloody blessing I can think of."

James laughed and stood up but Neville put a hand on his shoulder and shoved him back in his seat. "And James?"

"Yes?" he asked, confused.

"Remember- I'm a Herbology professor. That world of poisons and malevolent instinctual responses? I know all of it. And I will not hesitate to use it, should you hurt my Alice." Neville smiled, warmly. "Clear?"

James stood and made his way to the door, his face a little paler. "Crystal. Sir."

Neville waited until he'd gone and leaned back in his seat, chuckling. "Sir. I could get used to that."


End file.
